The Wolf and the Dragon
by ruwai
Summary: A silver-haired girl who had lived her whole life in the North with the only mother she has ever known discovers a life, a love and a world she could not have ever imagined. May be considered fluffy/ Mary-sue-ish (Apologies if not your taste).
1. Chapter 1: Winter is Coming

**Please be kind, this is my first fan fiction. I apologize for poor grammar and editing, as going back over my writing is not my most favourite thing in the world. I would appreciate any comments or writing suggestions. Thanks! And (Hopefully) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of someone who is probably not me.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One – Winter is Coming<strong>

Myra sighed. When she was bored or there seemed to be nothing else to do, breathing steam into the freezing Northern air made her eyes fill with wonder and gave her something to think about. For a while at least. She pulled her fur collared cloak tightly around her neck. Though she had lived in the North for as long as she could remember Myra was not entirely comfortable in the face of the colder North wind. She breathed out a stream of mist pretending that it warmed her as it blew back against her face.

As she looked down her silver blonde her whipped up into her face, her violet eyes below her marginally darker eyebrows searched for her direwolf, Silver. A direwolf so named because of her grey coat that shone with the same glow as Myra's fine hair. Myra had found the mother of her wolf nearly a year ago, she had had fur so white Myra had almost missed the large dead female. There were two other dead direwolf pups both white as well. Had it not been for the mewling of the smallest grey pup Myra may have missed her chance at meeting what turned out to be her only friend. Her direwolf had her same violet eye colour and offered Myra a sense of sisterhood and the girl believed that she offered the same to her orphaned wolf.

Silver had grown so much since that fateful day. According to Myra's mother direwolves were not normally found South of the Wall, in all honesty she expressed a great deal of surprise at any direwolves still being in existence at all. Myra had to beg her mother to keep Silver, but eventually the older woman gave in, on the conditions that Myra take care of the wolf and keep the animal from being too much of a burden. She had warned her daughter that according to myth direwolves grew large and as fast as wheat. Faster apparently.

Myra shivered as Silver bristled by her side. The days had become colder and the nights longer then they had ever been in all of her lonely sixteen name days. Now the daily walks Myra took to avoid the history, language and social edict lessons that her mother taught her could not last as long as they used to and the breaks from her lessons, as such, had to be shorter in length. Gone were the days when archery filled a part of her daily learning, her mother proclaimed that she was a good enough archer now. Better than good but that there was no point in needlessly drawing attention to herself with archery practice, especially as the number of animals to hunt in these parts had become increasingly scarce with each passing year. Myra asked to go further down, nearer to where the lands were greener for most of the year, but she was denied by her mother each time.

Winter is coming. That is what her mother said whenever Myra asked for extra breaks from studying or to accompany the older woman to the town where she bought supplies to sustain their existence out in this mostly frozen land. It was the great saying of the Northern lords of Winterfell and as Myra shivered in the dry cold the words could not ring anymore true.

The house she, her mother and Silver lived in was not really a house as far as Myra could tell. She had never lived anywhere else that she could remember, but from what she read in the books her mother made her study most houses were not traditionally single room structures that blended into their environment. Houses were meant to be many roomed buildings with servants or at least more people living in them. Myra would have given anything to have a family, to have anyone other than her mother to talk to. Her mother was kind, with a good sense of humour, often times both she and Myra would have evenings filled with laughter from besting one another in battles of wit.

Nonetheless the older woman was hard when it came to Myra's restrictions and education. Myra huffed as she reached crest of the small snow pile that had been forming in front of her home, her mother was standing just outside the door to their home.

"There you are girl!" she smiled at her daughter, her brown her dancing in the wind. "I'd thought you'd turned into snow…"

"Well, I did try mother," Myra joked back as she walked towards the open front door of the house. "It is such a task though."

"With that hair you're halfway there girl" the older women chuckled as she turned to walk back into the house. Silver yelped form beside Myra. "Oh!" her mother turned back to face her daughter, "I wanted you to get some wood from the pile, we used more than I was ready for this month…"

"Sure mother, let's grab the sled…"

"No, tomorrow I'll go with you and get more. Just get enough for tonight love, I want you back soon" she looked at Myra meaningfully from the doorway "it'll be dark soon and the chill will freeze you."

"Yes, mother."

"Good girl," her mother smiled warmly before going into the house, closing the door behind her as she went.

Myra looked down at her wolf and let out a heavy breath. "Come on girl. I guess our day isn't quite over yet…" she grinned as Silver cocked her head to one side. "At least it's more time away from study…" she followed the familiar path to wood pile. Under a large fallen tree bridging a ditch is where they kept the wood they collected during the warmer months. Her mother was always concerned that no one would ever find them or their house or their blasted wood pile. The paths that they left in the snow were usually covered by new fresh snowfall by morning or by the wind. Even the burning wood for light and heat was dependent on the amount of fog surrounding the hills. Luckily the days were largely grey and the fog rose practically every day, allowing the smoke from their chimney to blend in against their surroundings.

This is why Myra knew something was wrong. She had barely made a quarter of the way to the wood pile when the fog thickened far too quickly to be natural. It smelt wrong it smelt like…fire! How could it have come this far North? Where had it come from?

Myra took a deep breath. The panic that filled her made her want to scream, but who would hear her. She stood still trying to remember how to act rationally. Her eyes fell down to Silver, then widened in horror. "Mother…" she muttered, spinning around and running back the way she came as fast as her feet could carry her. She was within a few yards of her home when she could see the flames climbing up the hills from the south. She tried not to let her fear take over, though she realized that if the flames had reached so far already her home would be… "No…"

She picked up her skirts and forced her way through the growing smoke. Her eyes burned with tears and her cries choked her, making her throat raw. As she neared the door of her house she heard her mother's cries of "Help!"

"Mother!" Myra cried. The door was burning, the house was burning.

"Help!" her mother was burning. Without a second thought Myra ran through the blazing doorway, her wolf followed. She ran through the fallen beams, her cloak caught alight. She ripped it from her shoulders and peered around the room.

"Quickly Silver, find mother…" more beams fell. One land against her shoulder on its way to the ground. "Ah!" Silver worriedly whimpered against her knee. "Never mind girl, we have to find mother…"

"My…Myra…" Myra heard from the farther side of the house.

"Mother!" She ran through the flames and falling bits of roof. She did not know exactly how much hit her as it fell all she could think of was her mother.

"Myra…" her mother spluttered. The sight Myra came across made her want to yell in anguish she knew for sure that her mother would never leave this house. Her skin was burned lying beneath a heavy flaming support beam. Her mother's body was broken, though this did not mean Myra would not try.

"Mother…"she breathed "I'm going to save you…" she bent down and began trying to push the beam off her mother. "Silver help" she heaved.

"Myra…" she heard mother mutter, half delirious under the weight of the beam. Myra felt something fall from above her hit the back of her head as it came down, but she would not stop. She to save her mother.

"Mother, please…" Myra cried. "Save your strength…"

"Myra…" her mother rasped "I ha-have to tell…"

"Tell me when I save you mother" Myra shifted to sit on her backside to try and kick the burning beam off of her mother "Tell me later."

"Myra…I'm not your-your ma-mother " that was enough to stop Myra's kicking.

For a moment Myra forgot about Silver's howling and the house crumbling around her. "No" she shook her head in disbelief. She finally allowed herself to crawl forward to face her mother "What are you saying?"

"Love you beau-beautiful girl" her mother eyes began to cloud over as she scanned the younger girl's face.

"I love you too mother" Myra spoke softly.

"I-I promised…your ma… your fa-father…rey-rap…" something passed in the older woman's eyes, soon after she expelled her dinner and waste.

"Mother!" Myra screamed her throat feeling as though it had been ripped open. She could hear Silver howling next to her. More fell on top of her, she felt certain was covered in scratches, though she could not seem to feel anything. Her head was hit again. For everything she could not feel she could definitely feel her wolf pulling at the nape of her dress, she was being dragged. Her wolf was saving her. Her wolf was doing what she could not do. What she had not done.

"Silver…" she began to scrape out. To ask her wolf to let her be, but she was cut off by the sound of shouting. Myra's vision was blurring, in part with tears; in part, she was sure, because of the many knocks to her head. Her wolf, judging by the portion of the ceiling Myra could see through her darkening vision, had dragged her almost all the way to the door. The shouting was getting louder. Or it only seemed to be getting louder. Myra did not know if she could trust her hearing any more than she could trust her sight.

It was becoming worse now, she felt sure she was losing patches of time. She seemed to blink and be in another place closer to the door. Closer to the voices. She wanted to speak again but her tongue felt heavy against her mouth.

"Don't go in there my lord!" She heard a distortedly deep voice yell from behind her.

"There was a howl, Theon!" she heard another even closer, clearer voice yell.

She heard a crash from the same direction as the voices.

"Oh gods! It's a direwolf!" A dark smudge, framed by orange appeared above her. "And a girl!" She could not see who it was, not that she would recognize the person even if she was able to see them without her currently watery vision. Still, she could hear his voice as clear as anything she'd ever heard before. She felt as though a cool hand had eased a blistering ache in her head with just the sound of that voice.

She could not hear Silver growling. So Myra gave herself leave to let sleep take her as the black smudge above her grunted and lifted her.

"Theon! Over here!" she felt his chest rumble against her side.

"Ro-Robb!" She heard the other voice call. "Her hair…" she heard wonder in the voice.

She could only will herself to hear one last thing as the dark consumed her "I know Theon…it's her eyes too."

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><p><strong>Again any suggestions would be great! Hope to update soon.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Heir to Winterfell

**Hi people! Hope things have been good. Once again suggestions are appreciated. Hope you'll like this. Take note: disclaimer, disclaimer.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – Heir to Winterfell<strong>

The first thing Myra heard as she regained consciousness was the sound of a crackling fire. She felt her fear rear up inside her again. Was she still in the woods? At home?

All at once it was as though her senses rushed back to her. She did not smell anything burning abnormally. She did not feel a hard dirt ground beneath her, nor did she feel the cold of the woods surrounding her. She felt warm in a soft cotton chemise, she felt clean, she felt relatively comfortable and she daresay she felt safe. With each passing moment she became more aware of how her body was placed. Myra was almost certain she was on a bed. There was a dull nearly painful pressure pressed into the back of her head. She felt the familiar weight of a wolf's head resting against her left thigh. She felt the fingers of her left hand twitch on top what felt like bedspread, covered with furs, she knew such to be typical of Northern craftsmanship.

As she stretched her left arm down to reach her wolf's head, Myra just as slowly blinked open her eyelids. At first her vision was as blurry as she remembered her sight being when she had last closed her eyes. She wanted to lift her head but found it felt far heavier than she recalled it having been before. She groaned slightly. Her fingers feathered against the wolf head lying on her leg. It felt rougher than Silver's fur coat, this was enough to startle Myra into lifting her head. The direwolf looking back at her was not her violet-eyed Silver, rather a larger yellow-eyed smoky grey direwolf.

The initial fear Myra had felt upon waking ran through her again as she tried to catch her bearings in this shadowy stone room. To her left there was a closed window. She could see that there was no light filtering through the spaces outlining the shutters, so she assumed that it was night. But where was Silver? What wolf was this? Why was it on the bed with her?

"Odd isn't it?"

Myra head snapped to her right where the fire she had heard earlier was burning steadily near the foot of the bed. She resisted the urge to groan in pain again. The voice had come from a man with grey eyes and mop of curly dark hair, who did not look to Myra to be much older than she was herself. She opened her mouth, but was halted in speaking when the man raised his hand in a gesture that demanded silence. He walked closer to the bed, to stand next to her. He picked up a jug of water and an apparently empty cup sitting on a small wooden table beside the bed. He began pouring and spoke as he did so.

"I am Robb Stark, Heir of Winterfell, son of Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Now that you know who I am. You should also be aware of the penalties you may face once you decide to begin speaking as they can be severe. You should know that I will expect the truth. If you do not give it or if you chose test my patience it would be a great and regretful waste of your energies…" though he spoke softly Myra could sense the power behind his words, he placed the jug back on the table and held the cup out towards her. "Now drink this to ease your throat. And speak…"

Myra shifted up against the headboard, propping herself up against her pillow. As she moved she became aware that it was not only one direwolf lying on the bed. A body and coat colour that distinctly belonged to Silver lay pressed against her leg. It was then she realized that the direwolf, whose head she had been stroking, was lying almost protectively over Silver's body. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Silver's head poked up at Myra's movement. The wolf lying over Silver's body sat up so that she could move to rest her head against Myra's stomach. Myra glanced curiously at the yellow-eyed direwolf now sitting calmly back next to her feet, though she only took up half of bed the larger wolf remained close to her.

The cup still suspended in midair before her face swayed gently grabbing her attention. Myra finally reached out and clasped the cool metal cup in between her hands. She felt weaker than she that ever felt in all of her life. As she lifted the cup to her lips she thought of what she should say to the grey-eyed man standing next to her. Robb Stark. Despite having had no dealings with anyone outside of her mother, she judged that this man seemed to be fair-minded. All of her being told her that from his tone and manner of conduct she was right in believing so.

It was not only this but there was also something else, some intuition in the deep dark of her that told her so. Myra tried to think of why she would lie to him. As she took a sip of water it dawned on her that she really had nothing worth hiding. Nothing in her life seemed to merit lying in any case to such a man. The cold water slid down her throat causing her to cough at the shock of the feeling against her rare throat.

Silver raised her head, as Myra's body shook. Lord Stark took the cup back, returning it to the table. Myra made sure to clear her airways before attempting to speak. "Th-thank you for saving me my lord" she cleared her throat once again, her voice still sounded raspy to her ears. "And Silver too" she added stroking her wolf's neck. She looked up at the man next to her, who merely nodded in acknowledgement.

"I am Myra. I have no cause to lie to you, so I won't, though I don't know what I could tell that would be of any interest. You s-" she began coughing again. Evidently speaking for so quickly and in one breath was not in keeping with the amount of strength she held in her body. She pressed her hand against her chest as Silver shifted closer to her face, softly nudging at Myra's cheeks. "It's all right Silver" Myra whisper to her wolf. She cleared her throat again, before looking back up at Lord Stark. She felt unnerved by his gaze, it was intense his expression seemed torn. Myra did not know how to respond to this sort of stare so she simply sniffed and let her eyes slip back down to Silver's form.

"Sorry my lord. I may have to go on a little more slowly" she took a breath. "You see I've lived there in what I'm sure is now just a mound of ash all of my life. My mother" she suddenly choked on the word. This was neither from breathlessness nor out of weakness. She had not expected to feel such immense sadness at simply uttering the maternal title. "I'm so-orry Lord Stark" she mumbled as Silver pushed her head against Myra face once more. "I…normally I'm not so…messy" she muttered collecting herself. She swallowed before continuing.

"My mother, or at least the woman I knew to be my mother never gave a reason for why we lived as we did in the North. She had always been concerned with keeping me there, away from everyone…" she took another deep breath and carried on "when the fire came and she was about to ah, about to pass… she told me that my real mother had been um" she closed her eyes as she stumbled through her oration "raped…" with that one word her head seemed to throb more and her wounds seemed to burn more. She licked her lips, forcing herself to continue on, though she was feeling even weaker than a few moments before. Weaker than she ever believed herself of capable being. Her eyes opened but she felt them droop with weariness.

"My mother said she promised to my real mother that she would keep me safe. I suppose…" she grinned humourlessly "that makes me a bastard of the North…a Snow" she swore she saw Lord Stark flinch out of the corner of her eye.

She lifted her gaze up to face him yet again. "I am truly sorry my lord. I have nothing else that I can tell you, for there is nothing else I know about my mother…even about myself." His eyes softened as he seemed to hear the truth in her words.

"Not at all, lady," as he spoke Myra felt the ills within her body ease to some extent. Some calm washed over her, she sighed a little. "Forgive me, you must be tried. You have suffered through much in these past few days. And you have yet more healing ahead of you…"

Myra felt another the nose of the other direwolf comfortingly nuzzled the hand she still had placed on Silver's neck. She wanted to giggle but instead found she only had strength enough to smile drowsily over Silver at the other wolf. "Is this wolf yours my lord?"

"Yes" she could hear the smile in his voice "his name is Grey Wind."

"Grey Wind" she nodded in approval "Good, fast name…" she moved her hand to rub Grey Wind's head. From personal experience and study of many legendary stories, Myra knew direwolves to generally be intelligent, protective and fiercely loyal, as such they were not easily trusting of strangers. It took Silver months to leave Myra alone with her own mother. Eventually she grew to be protective of them both but it still took time. She turned her head to face Robb Stark "Is he always so…?"

The young lord appeared to understand the meaning behind her hanging question and shook his head in response. "No" his grey eyes were stormy and intense again "Not even with my siblings' wolves. Not even with my siblings themselves."

"Oh…" her expression filled with confusion. She had been sure he would have said that his wolf was simply a uniquely affectionate creature. "That's…" but she felt she had no will to speak. "I am sorry my lord" her hand fell from Grey Wind's muzzle "I fear…too tried to talk…" she murmured, slumping back against her pillow, Silver returning to lie atop her stomach.

"That's quite all right" the young man stated.

She smiled softly, as her eyes fluttered shut "you're lulling me…"

Robb Stark lingered for a moment, staring contemplatively at the girl with silver blonde hair. "I lulled you…" He scoffed raising an eyebrow at Grey Wind, who moved to lie over the wolf he now knew as Silver.

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><p>Robb had pulled himself away from the girl's bedside with about as much enthusiasm as his mother had left Bran's chambers. However, whatever he had been feeling at leaving her seemed to affect Grey Wind about ten times worse. He could not understand it. Robb had made Theon, Maester Luwin and her nurses, the only other people who had really had a chance to see her, swear to hold their tongues about the girl's appearance.<p>

With these actions alone, Robb knew he was thinking of her safety rather than concerning himself with his fealty to King Robert's crown. King Robert, with his taste for any blood associated with the Mad King's line... Robb shook his head as he made his way towards his chambers he thought of how he should berate himself for being so irresponsible. His brother and mother had only been attacked inside of these walls, within the last forty-eight hours and here was he, Heir of Winterfell, housing a strange woman that he did not know. And it seemed who did not wholly know herself.

He looked down at Grey Wind, who trailed him down the halls of Winterfell. Of all who appeared to know anything, Grey Wind looked to be the only one completely certain of his own judgment. Robb lips quirked upwards as he cast a glance down at his grey wolf. He felt positive that if his wolf could trust her so could he, even if Grey Wind had not reacted in the way that he had, Robb felt a strange sort of draw to this particular person. There was something about her. Something that had him grinning like a fool, he was sure. It was a grin that he could not shake from his lips, even as he checked on Bran and the extra guards he had assigned to castle watch and he found it still there when he woke in the middle of the night to take his shift for castle watch as well.

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><p><strong>Ta da!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: And Heir to the North

**Here I am, on I go. Once more any help and writing suggestion are welcome. Please recall the disclaimer and the warning about FLUFFY romance. Hello to the madness of swooning.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three – And Heir to the North<strong>

In the grey light of the next morning Robb Stark tried to busy himself. He tried to keep himself from giving into the pull in the pit of his stomach, drawing him towards the girl's door. According to one of the nurses' morning and midday reports the girl, Myra, had slept all through the night and would probably continue to do so for the next few days, maybe even weeks.

Grey Wind was no better than Robb, the way his wolf paced and jittered before the young lord set his teeth on edge. He found the wolf's nerves too much for his own and urged his companion to go hunting outdoors to expend the excess energy that appeared to be buzzing within him.

Just before supper Robb had been about to give in to his desire to see the girl, to have a chance to be in her presence again even if it was just for a moment, when Maester Luwin called him away to the growth just inside of the godswood, stating his mother had discovered something to do with Bran's fall. Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Isle, as loyal hostage-cum-ward to the Starks, and Lord Rodrick, as Master at Arms of Winterfell, had already been brought to the meeting place. Robb did not doubt that Grey Wind was also somewhere close by; a part of him could always sense his wolf.

"What I am about to tell you must remain between us…I do not think Bran fell from that tower…" As his mother began to speak of Bran and her plans to visit King's Landing, Robb could feel his fury at the Lannister's growing. All he could hear flow in and out of every one of his thoughts was the word 'war' and all he could feel within himself was all of the hard sentiment behind such a word. However, when his mother uttered the word herself, Robb suddenly felt the full burden of what such an act would mean. He thought of stories his father, his uncle, his King told.

Tales that had once been filled with incredible glory, marvel and passion for him, for all of them in Winterfell, now bought dread forward to clutch at his entire being. His mind wandered to his Myra in a room in the castle beyond the godswood. For some reason he felt deeply troubled by her loss, her grief, her hurting. She had lost her mother, a mother who had been otherwise unknown and who had held no significance to anyone but her own daughter. And now Robb could not help but think of all those who remained unmentioned in his ancestors' ballads of glory. Who of importance to an unmentioned someone had been needlessly lost on the whim of a selfish overload? War. Unneeded death. Death once something far away and easily digested became something he could feel the weight of himself. And it was heavy, difficult thing.

"Mother" Robb spoke softly breaking her tirade against the Lannisters. She looked fearsome and wild, as Robb would naturally expect. He himself was half Tully, and did not fully know himself the lengths he would go to in order to defend his family, though he was aware that the extents were great. Though this family devotion did not exclusively have to do with the Tully side of the family line, Robb was certain that the deep love he held for his family had as much to do with his father as his mother. His brother Jon was proof of that. "May I speak with you alone for a moment?" he sent meaningful glances to the three others in the godswood clearing.

"Yes. Of course Robb," she spoke, her voice much more calm. "If you all give us a few moments…" she nodded her head towards Winterfell. He three men bowed their heads, and turned back for the castle walls.

Robb looked at his mother, who seemed to relax in the absence of the others' presence. "Mother" he spoke quietly, bringing her to sit next to him on a fallen mossy log. "Are you all right?"

His mother turned her head sharply with an incredulous expression on her face. "Robb" she muttered, suddenly looking older and smaller than Robb had ever remembered seeing her in his life. She held the palms of her hands out before her, so that she could examine them. Robb followed her gaze to the scars, still pink and healing. He thanked the gods that there was no infection and Maester Luwin for his quick working alchemy. He reached out clasping her left hand in his own, he gently ran his fingers between the marred skin of her palms and spoke softly, with care.

"I know mother. I know your pain. For Bran, for father and Sansa and Ayra having to leave, for myself I add Jon" he felt her stiffen at the name, yet he held her hand where was and continued "to this list of people who are torn away from in some way…I feel in me the same urge as you to fight war for my loved ones, but consider before you do anything rash the loved ones of others and the pain of those torn others that comes with war…"

"Robb…"

"Do not misunderstand me mother," he inhaled deeply, shifting his grey eyes to meet her own blue ones "I would readily and gladly go to war for my family, if that was the only option and available course of honourable action, but so long as innocent lives can be saved I would have them be saved…"

Robb watched his mother. Her eyes flitted down to her palms and then back to her eldest son's face. Her mouth curved into smile of relieved admiration. "Oh my beautiful Northern boy" she whispered, raising her free right hand to brush his unruly hair away from his forehead. "When did you become a Lord? I can hardly believe it here sits my son…my son now become a man…" he mirrored her smile, releasing her hand from his grip. "I do not think I could be more proud…"

"You are my mother," he nudged her side playfully, before continuing "I doubt I would have this shape you take such pride in had it not been for you."

She traced the lines on her right palm with her own fingers "I understand what you are saying Robb. A battle between the Lions and Wolves would be onerous to say the least. I…" she sighed, and her shoulders slumped forward "I won't act on the Lannister's in any irrational fashion. But I do need to go to King's Landing to inform your father…there is some form of treachery afoot here Robb and we have to prepare and defend ourselves."

"I agree, Winter is Coming…though I would feel easier if you did not go yourself or at least took more men with you.

"No Robb" she shook her head firmly "It must be this way. While we may not be going to war it would be foolish raise suspicions amongst easy enemies."

Robb huffed out a breath of exasperated air. "You Tullys are stubborn" he stated with mock distaste.

She laughed lightly "No more than you Starks, my boy." Her countenance transformed as she scanned her son's face. "Something's changed in you though Robb, truly I see it in you. Even from yesterday you are…altered…"

"Altered?" he frowned slightly.

His mother nodded slowly "That girl you and Theon found in the fire the night Bran was attacked. How is she?" His mother had yet to lay eyes on the girl as Bran had been consuming each one of her waking moments.

"She…? I've only spoken to her briefly. She is still very weak and healing" as he spoke he barely noticed his mother's features change. He only barely noticed, but he did actually notice nonetheless.

"What is it mother?"

"Nothing my dear boy. You said that you spoke to her…when? Is she awake now?"

"Last night, for the few minutes that she was conscious. Maester Luwin believes with the remedies she is being given and the healing she has left to do that she will be asleep consistently for the next few weeks at least."

"Did you learn anything of interest?"

"Only that she has lived completely isolated in the North her whole life and lost the only mother and family she had ever known in the fire. She knows nothing even of herself beyond that…"

"And she has a direwolf as well? The one that howled that so loudly that night…"

"Yes, her name is Silver," Robb's frown deepened. "Perhaps they'll become the new fashion in Northern household pets…" he half teased.

"Perhaps…" she smiled warmly at her son. "What is her name?"

"She told me it is Myra."

"Myra?" she nodded, bracing her hands against her knees standing up, Robb followed his mother's suit. "No last name?"

Robb shook his head "Not a legitimate one anyway…" He began walking his mother back to the castle so that she could start on her journey to King's Landing. Robb wondered as he walked with his mother whether or not lying to a person and keeping something from a person were not in fact the same things.

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><p>The day had begun again and Robb found himself back in her room. From the very first night he had failed in staying away from her. Though he did try to deny himself each time rather than simply admitting defeat to what he was sure was his personal weakness. In the weeks following the evening that his mother left for King's Landing Robb's visits to her room had increased. It went from four times in those first four days, then twice on the fifth day, to three times in a day, to now. Now, where whenever he needed a sense of calm he would rush to her room. He did not know what was happening to him. With each visit her found himself moving closer to her side, with each step he advanced he felt himself reach a deeper level calm and peace. To say he found the serenity addictive would be an understatement.<p>

Grey Wind did not have Robb's problem in approaching the girl. Almost immediately upon entering the room the male wolf would be laying over either Silver or Myra or both. If Robb was in search of Grey Wind he would not have look any further than Myra's room. And with this, if anyone who knew Robb well enough was in search of him they would know to knock on Myra's door and that they would be half likely to find Robb answering their knock.

Though she mostly remained unconscious, she had moments of wakefulness or so her nurses told him. As he watched her resting peacefully, he realized he had come closer to her than ever before. Silver raised her head from Myra's lap and from beneath Grey Wind's neck she peeked up at Robb, who gently stroke the space between her eyes. It appeared to Robb that Silver had the same sort of affection for him as Grey Wind did for Myra. That was very clear from the first night that they had met, when Silver had neither flinched nor attacked, as most direwolves would have, as he approached Myra for the first time. The smaller wolf had actually rubbed itself against his legs as he carried Myra to safety, snarling only when startled by Theon's approach.

Robb looked now to the girl sleeping. She had yet to wake again in his presence, and he found himself feeling sad for it. He did not only want to look at her, he wanted to speak to her, hear her voice and her thoughts. See her smile. Smell her hair. Without allowing for any true thought Robb acted. His fingers curled into the loose soft silver blonde locks spread out against the pillow behind her head. He leaned down only to take a sniff, but instead he had been struck with the most intoxicating scent of nirvana. Where had this come from? Like a blast out of the blue…

By the gods! His knees weakened under him, he was surprised he was able to stand at all. Was this woman a witch? He supposed that this would be what being bewitched would feel like. He wanted live in this smell. The wanted to exist in the safe haven this girl offered. He wanted to bury himself beside her, in every pore of her. Not for any bodily pleasure, but more to feel whole.

He heard small cough from beneath him. Robb froze for he was unsure if he was imagining the sound. Then… "My lord?" as small, distinctly female and markedly confused voice asked.

"Oh seven hells…" he murmured against her sweet hair.

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><p><strong>Again I do like help, so any at all that people could offer me would definitely be appreciated.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Broken Bastards

**Hello mis amigos! Hope all is well! This story is going to take some time to hit all the plot points I have planned and get to where I'd like it to go. Thank you for being patient with me. Here is the next part of this little tale.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four – Broken Bastards<strong>

Robb Stark, Heir of Winterfell, had his eyes pressed his eyes closed and her hair pressed against his nose. She did not know if she should speak anymore or not. Even if she knew what to say her voice seemed to be caught in her throat and unwilling to leave it. And so she waited, no longer wide-eyed but no less full of surprise. Her minders told her that she had been resting and healing for the past few weeks and was taking her time to mend. Myra was aware that by this time she should have been able to walk and talk without any problems. Instead she was still in a fragile state and she knew that a part of the reason had to with her nightmares.

Filled with licks of burning orange and the sound of her mother's screaming, Myra found that when she did wake up she felt utterly drained. But today she had been dreaming, though she had never gone to the sea she had felt as though she were floating weightless on top of water, much as she had seen described in a book that she had read. In this dream, as she lay atop her sea, Myra felt wave over wave of calm roll throughout her being. Now as she stared up at Robb Stark she felt same familiar waves crashing over her.

He bolted up right and moved back away from her. She found it odd she had only spoken a second or two ago and yet in that time she had thought on much and what seemed to be entire worlds had existed. The young lord stood ramrod straight glared directly ahead at the wall with the open window. Myra followed the man's gaze, before looking down towards Grey Wind who also seemed to be intently focused on figuring out what his man was doing.

"My lord?" She seemed to have found her voice again.

"I hear-I hear you are doing better…" he blurted out. He slowly chanced looking down at her before he continued "I mean you look better…not that you-just you've got some more colour."

"Yes, my lord" she felt the need to catch her breath, the way he was looking at her made her feel naked. As though he would be able to see all of her secrets, all of her emotions and meanings, should she have chosen to keep any hidden from him. "I am feeling much better thanks to your nurses Mena and Tyella…and Maester Luwin of course" she raised the hand she had resting under Silver at her side to stroke Grey Wind's forehead "and you- you and your house most of all…"

"It is no trouble lady…"

"No trouble!" she snapped turning her head to face him, violet eyes suddenly blazing.

"Wha-"

She did not let him finish. "Mena and Tyella tell me they have been using Methine leaves for the particular type of medicine I require, Maester Luwin tells me you have kept a near constant watch by my side, when I do wake I see that Grey Wind has almost always been here… I may not know much of being in the real world, but I do know the importance of expense, the value of labour, time, strength, companionship, duty… "

With that final word Robb eyes went from soft grey to deep orbs of storm filled sky and Myra had to find her breath again. A silence stood between them. Gradually, the tempest in his eyes seemed to dissipate away as he took her in calmly. With the same voice he had used when they had first met properly he stated, "I know the value of those things too Myra, I know the value of them exactly" though his tone had not changed, Myra felt as though the air had been squeezed out her lungs. What had he meant? Surely not that she was of any such value? What would she give to hear him say her name again?

He smiled widely now obviously trying to lighten the mood "So how is it you know the value of such…" she began to frown, but continued "things as Methine leaves?"

The frown dropped from her face when she realized his good humour. She returned his wide smile, moving further back against the headboard and her pillow. Her shifting caused Silver to sit up while Grey Wind chose to keep his head resting on her thigh. "Come my lord please sit," she gestured to the space she had made at the foot of the bed by moving up "it must be tiring standing in one attitude for so long…" her mauve eyes widened as she realized what she was saying and to whom she was speaking. Myra tried to remember her lessons in edict. Though none in particular pertained to lords in ladies bed chambers she was fairly certain inviting a lord to sit on one's bed while one lay resting in it went against all of what she understood of decent norms.

But the young man just smiled "One condition."

She raised an eyebrow in question.

"You address me as Robb," he sighed as took a seat by her feet "all this 'my lord', 'my lord' business all day long is enough drive a person completely mad."

"All right m-" she stopped when he shook head and made a move as though he was going to stand up. She looked down at Grey Wind's head as she patted the wolf, she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. She could not bring herself to say his name so she simply stated "All right." Myra looked up as she felt a weight shift off of the bed. He stared at her expectantly.

Her brow furrowed in further confusion.

"All right Ro..." he offered as a starting point, then gesturing for her to continue.

She gritted her teeth behind her lips, knowing she probably looked like the stubborn five year old child her mother had described her as. A little girl who refused to eat her squash because of its name.

His eyes now flashed with hard stone, she could tell that he would not be backing down anytime soon, so she relented.

"All. Right…" he nodded his head for her to continue. "Robb." Whatever tension he had been holding in his face and his stance flowed away out of him. As he sat back on the bed Myra carried on stroking Grey Wind's fur, wondering if her saying his name had the same effect that his saying her name had on her own being. She shook her head. She was being silly. Such stupid, imagined things occurred in the fairytales her mother used to tell her…in children's stories. She felt Grey Wind nudge the hand that she had unknowingly stopped in its movement over his coat. Myra started rubbing the top of head again. She knew such obvious magic did not exist and yet…here sat a rare and legendary direwolf in her lap. Two in fact! And there sat Robb Stark of Winterfell at the foot of her bed, making her feel as calm as she did on that ocean in her dream simply by being in her presence.

Silver had moved down the bed to rest her head against Robb's leg. He looked down at her and smiled, "Hello, little one," he mumbled while scratching behind her ears. Robb looked back up to see Myra odd expression "that" he nodded towards her "is pretty well near the same face I made when Grey Wind began behaving so…out of character."

"Out of character?" Myra questioned.

Robb nodded. "I mean he is protective of me and my family, close to them too but I've never seen him take to anyone quite in this way..."

"Mmmm…" Myra hummed, thoughtfully looking down at the large grey wolf lying against her.

"So…" Robb began again drawing her attention back, "Methine leaves?"

Myra nodded, smiling at the young man. "My mother" she stopped to blink for a moment at the odd feeling of that word on her tongue, she shook her head hoping that it would become easier as time wore on. She forced herself to carry on "My mother always said that there was no point in being safe if one could not defend themselves against a common sickness or infection" she chuckled a little, "we also needed to eat, we needed supplies so in addition to teaching me about herbal remedies and basic healing she taught me what herbs were worth stopping to collect…so that Robb Stark, Heir of Winterfell, is how I know the value of Methine leaves. And how I know that if this be the same courtesy you extend to all your guests you must either be very rich or…very poor…" she teased.

Robb's hearty laughter filled the room, the sound prompted Sliver to move slightly against his leg. "Gods! Thank you, I needed a laugh."

"Then you are welcome," she inclined her head in a small bow.

"You seem…" he paused, appearing to search for the right word while his eyes scanned her face "well adapted for, forgive me for being crude, but for having lived in the wilderness, without having interacted with others..."

"It's not crude. I suppose it would make sense to think, to expect something a bit more…wild for lack of a better word. But you forget I was not entirely alone up there…"

"Your mother?" Robb offered. Myra nodded. "And Silver" Robb added scratching behind her wolf's ears again.

"Yes…"

"Your knowledge ranges beyond native herbs of the North then?" he grinned.

"Why yes Ser it does."

"I am no Ser bec…"

"Because you are a man of the North. You were not born in the Light of the Seven and cannot be a Knight. You keep the faith of the Old Gods as I do and my mother did."

"Clever girl…" amused by her face pinching at his teasing endearments "…tell me. What else do you know?"

"I know as much as my mother taught me, and she taught me how to stay alive and the histories of Westeros, Essos and Sothoros and their many houses and cultures. She schooled me in writing and housekeeping and the common tongue" she smile to herself "and when it had become too much and I felt I could know each war, each culture and each house in my sleep she would teach me again. She never talked of my heritage but sometimes she would give me stories about her youth, and tell me of the real world." She smiled, peering pensively around the room.

"And how do you like this? The real world?" he asked with a grin.

"In truth?" she looked at him, as he nodded. "I have not seen much more than I have ever seen before. I may be a 'clever girl' as you put it but here I feel overwhelmed. I do not know if this makes me weak but seeing something is so different to reading about it and hearing it be described or explained. This world outside of the one I knew seems so large and unfamiliar, I can hardly believe that there is more out there. More that I really know nothing of…" she shook her head "I'd never seen a woman other than my mother before, let alone a man" she diverted her eyes, feeling the heat rise under her skin again "I've never been in room so grand, though I'd read about them. I do not know how I would take more any faster than I am now. Even your hair…"

"My hair?" her eyes darted back to his face. He ran his hand over the stubble on his chin.

"Yes. I had read of dark hair and curls before, but I could never quite imagine it, properly…"

"Oh" he muttered, dropping his hand from his face "And your mother's hair?"

"Brown. Much lighter than yours…" Myra inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Even with the comfort Robb Stark seemed to give her by being close to her, picturing her mother with her brown hair whipping in the wind filled Myra a unique sense of reassuring warmth.

When she opened her violet eyes she was met with the gaze of intense grey ones. Robb eyes seemed fixed on her and Myra had an irrational urge to blush but she laughed instead. "It also seems in the real world my lessons in social edict are completely lost…"

He grinned at her "Believe me the rules of edict are the things that 'soft' southerns concern themselves with…" his look quickly became dark "under it all they are just men as the rest of us are. Only in the North we take more stock in the honour of a man, in what a man can do and has done…"

"Or will do…" she spoke softly, examining Robb's dark features. His expression lightened once more.

"It is funny…" he started, apparently wanting to change the subject. Myra nodded for him to continue. "That you mention hair bec-" he was cut off by the sound of shouting being carried on the breeze through the open window. Grey Wind jumped over Myra off the bed as Robb too stood up abruptly, startling both Silver and Myra, whose eyes widened as she felt fear climb through her.

"The Imp! The Imp is approaching!" Robb's expression was fierce as he made to leave the room.

When he reached the door he turned back to face the bed "Myra please stay there, I will return soon enough." He waited for her to nod before leaving, shutting the door behind him and his wolf as he went.

Myra sat, still rather startled. The shouting at the window had been replaced with the sound of stones clopping against one another. Sliver too jumped from the foot of the bed, moving to stand by the open window. Myra looked around the room, Robb had told her to stay where she was, and she did not know if she had the strength to walk, or even stand, at this moment.

She threw the covers off of her legs and stared down at her toes. Living with her mother had taught Myra some things, one of which was that she was very good at defying orders, to a point, when she wanted to. She wiggled her toes experimentally, and grinned when they moved at her command. They seemed to obey her, she shifted her body to sit up so her legs hung heavy over the edge of the bed, her toes brushed the ground. Silver had walked around the bed to sit at Myra's feet, gently she prodded at the girl's knee.

"Yes girl. Let's not be cowards" she clutched the edge of the mattress, heaved out a breath pushed herself to stand. Myra's legs felt foreign to her now, they required more thinking to function as they used to. No doubt they would return to their normal state once she had regained all of her strength, but for now each step asked for all of her concentration. But she was taking steps at least, she smiled down at Silver. She was grateful "Thank the gods."

She lifted her head to look at the window, the sound was getting closer, but all she could see were the grey clouds behind pine and snow covered mountains. Myra took in a harsh breath, using the bed and the bed posts as support she made her way slowly to the window, with an ever watchful Silver at her side. When she reached the end of her bed turned crutch, Myra fell forward to tumble a little towards the window. She grinned victorious at Sliver, who had rushed forward worriedly when she seemed to fall. Myra let out a satisfied gasp air.

However, this satisfaction did not last very long. The clattering outside had halted just as she reached the window. A booming voice asked for shelter and to see Lady Stark. Myra peeked over the side of the stone window, she found the view to match a height of some of the trees and rocks she had used to climb in the hills. There were a number of people on the enclosed brown ground below her, but one stood out amongst the black and brown heads. It was a yellow head that appeared to belong to the man with the demanding voice, despite only seeing him from above Myra could tell he was smaller in stature than the rest of the people surrounding him. Suddenly the man looked up.

Myra gasped, feeling herself go limp. Almost immediately she fell against the wall by the window, breaking into a clammy sweat. Silver pressed against her, trying to comfort her obviously distressed girl. Myra felt breathless, not in the same way she felt when Robb Stark looked at her, but in a different way. Myra could not be certain, but a part of her thought that, for the brief moment she had seen the shorter man's face, she witnessed something akin to recognition flit across it. And that recognition did not seem entirely kind. Her mother's words from yet another lesson echoed in her head 'the world is filled with dangerous people'.

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><p><strong>So I've decided to slow down in my updating, I just wanted to get these first few chapters up. I mean to post steadily though.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5: Crippled Things

**Please feel free to offer point out grammatical errors (I enjoy that as I enjoy using proper grammar) and please do not, I repeat, DO NOT sue me.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five – Crippled Things<strong>

Robb felt out of place sitting in his father's cold seat in the Great Hall waiting for Tyrion Lannister to appear before him. He pulled his warm Northern cloak further over the front of his body. Grey Wind sat just ahead of the long table in front him, calming him not as much as the girl did but in part at least. He still felt strange. In his father's place he felt small, as though he did not fill the space quite right. A child with a suit of armor and a sword that were both too large for him. He feared stepping wrong. With such responsibility and such power going afoul quickly would be simple. Especially with a Lannister walking into his midst, someone who may have been the reason that his brother was hurt beyond repair. Bran would never walk again, his anger and resentment had disenchanted the once lively boy to a point where Robb could see that the world no longer held any promise in his younger brother's mind.

Both Robb and Grey Wind bristled at the arrival of the short man. Robb extended the hospitality of Winterfell to the man of the Night's Watch, but he made sure that Tyrion could tell that he was unwelcome. Though Robb did not want a fight, but he just as equally did not want a Lannister eating the food of his house and sleeping within the walls of Winterfell. When the Imp asked to see Bran, Robb almost said no but changed his mind at the last moment. His dislike of the Lannisters had been made abundantly clear, he had no reason to stir a pot of already scalding water.

Confusion swept him through him as Tyrion explained to Bran the device that he wanted to be crafted to help the boy ride a horse again. In return Robb tried to offer the Lannister shelter at Winterfell but was refused. Whether he had known it at the time or not, Robb now understood that he had acted impulsively. Trying to collect paint back into the pail after its contents had spilled on to the floor. Robb stood to follow Tyrion and his companion from the Night's Watch as they left the Hall. He stopped to speak to Bran, who in Hodor's arms was at eye level with him.

"Bran…" Robb began tentatively.

"Will it work?" Bran asked lifting his gaze from the design the Lannister had given him. Robb knew the boy to be at an age, where he would trust anything his elder brother would say. He also knew Tyrion Lannister to be counted amongst the brightest minds of the age.

"I don't know Bran. But Tyrion Lannister is very clever, I see no reason why his design would not work" he clasped his hand on one of his little brother's shoulder. Bran's faced filled with the glow of a true, childlike smile. Robb saw a flicker of a life come back to his brother's face, and now felt more ashamed of his treatment of the Lannister. "Go with Maester Luwin and you can go get to work on it."

Bran smiled, nodding and calling out to the older Maester. Robb quickly left the Hall with Grey Wind, hoping he would catch up with the blonde man before he departed from Winterfell for good. He found the short Lannister in the courtyard, already mounted on his horse, speaking with Theon.

"Ah! Lord Stark! Come to see me off?" Tyrion called when he saw Robb approaching from behind Theon. Theon turned to face his friend, looking somewhat troubled.

"Give us a minute. Will you Theon?"

Theon inclined his head. "Greyjoy" Tyrion called before the young man could leave. Theon turned back to catch the coin the Lannister flicked in his direction, "your next tumble with her is on me." Theon scowled and then continued on his way. Robb did not have to think hard to know what they were referring to.

"Lord Stark" Tyrion drawled out, condescension dripping from his voice "How may I help you?"

"You already have. By helping my brother. I wanted to thank you for it." Robb stated feeling exceedingly foolish as he spoke.

"Well Lord Stark, there is no need to trouble yourself with such trivial things. They are certainly beneath your new status," the craned his neck to face the sky "Surely your attentions are better spent being consumed by other things…all white flames and violet fires…" with that he grinned at a stunned Robb, "Good day…" Tyrion kicked his horse, heading out of yard with the Night's watchman adding a finally farewell of "Lord Stark" acerbically over his shoulder as he went.

Only when the Imp was gone did Robb allow his mouth to fall open. He looked down at Grey Wind, then turned and glanced upwards to see what Tyrion Lannister had seen from this spot in the courtyard. He felt what he hoped to be unreasonable amounts of terror fill him. From this spot he could clearly see Myra's window. He took off before he was fully aware what he was doing. As he rushed to her room with Grey Wind at his heels he felt his fear turn into anger, quiet rage was building in him, at no one and at everyone at the same time. If Tyrion Lannister told the 'right' people, his people, what he saw, chances are she would be taken away. Away from the North, away from all she knew, away from him.

Gods! Why did she have to look after he asked her to stay where she was? Robb let a small growl escape his lips. He burst into her room, preparing himself to yell, shout, even throw things. Being met by an empty bed was not what he had planned on, he suddenly felt empty himself, all together drained, his angry urges seemed silly now. Where was she?

His eyes roamed the room that he had entered barely a moment ago. His initial sense of relief at seeing her still in the room, was just as rapidly replaced by yet more fear as he took in the pale and frail state of her gasping for air with her eyes closed, next to Sliver. Grey Wind was already moving to be by her side, with Robb close behind. He hardly registered the door slamming shut after him.

"Myra!" he crouched in front of her, with some difficulty having to reach between Sliver and Grey Wind to hold her face in his hands. He examined her trying to assess what was happening to her. He knew he should have run for Maester Luwin, but he could not find it in himself to leave her in this state. Sliver and Grey Wind backed away a little, allowing Robb to move closer to her. "Oh, my little dragon" he muttered, mostly to admonish himself. His hands slipped down her neck by a hair, he could feel her rapid pulse beneath his fingers. She was sweating, but her skin felt cold to touch and she was shivering. "Myra," he spoke again. He felt her erratic pulse suddenly slow. He rubbed his thumb in a small circle against the skin of her neck, which a appeared to sooth her further.

Robb took his hands away from her, instantly missing the feel of her skin against them, Myra's brow creased and she carried on shivering. Robb had taken his hands away to pull his cloak from his shoulders, "Myra" he wrapped it around her body, rubbing her arms trying to warm her with the friction he created "you're shivering as though this is your first time being in the North." His speaking seemed to calm her, so he continued as he rose to close the shutters of the window above her. It was growing dark. "Honestly someone could mistake you for one of those spongy southerns…" this seemed to draw her attention. His eyes had not left her form since he had clapped them on her.

Her head lolled back so that her violet gaze could reach him, she smiled "Don't say such horrid things" her breathing had eased though she looked weary. Robb crouched back down to face her, he could not help smiling back at her.

"Sorry my lady it was uncalled for…" he laughed softly. Grey Wind and Sliver brushed their nose against her legs. Robb's expression was coloured with concern again. "Myra. What happened?" Robb asked as he positioned his arms under her body in order to lift her.

"Nothing. I just…maybe walking and…ah!" she exclaimed as Robb lifted her. "Well I can walk now, Robb!" Much of her strength looked to be coming back to her now.

"You don't know that" he offered back only half joking.

"I would if you put me down!" She struggled half-heartedly, as he walked her back to the bed, their wolves following his steps.

"Come, come little dragon. Calm down…" he teased without thinking. She stopped struggling when she caught his words. As Robb sat her on the bed the words he had spoken started to sink in. His hands were on either side of where she sat, bracing him against the bed, his face was only a few centimetres away from the silver blonde hair laying against her neck. He squeezed his eyelids closed irritated with himself, he inhaled her scent, and was aware of the weight of Sliver and Grey Wind jumping on to the bed before pulling away from her.

Robb opened his eyes to see the upset and disbelieving look on Myra's face. "Dragon?" she asked.

Robb sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his right index finger and thumb "That was what I-" he stopped, dropping his hand to look at her, still pale and small. "Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow when…"

"No" she state firmly, though she pulled his cloak tightly around her body. Her nose brushed the collar for a moment, she continued "I would have you tell me now and be done with it." Silver came to rest her head on her thigh and Grey Wind took his place lying overtop of the lady's wolf.

"As you wish…" he bowed his head to look at his feet for a moment. "Earlier today at your mention of hair I had intended to tell you all I knew, but we were interrupted…"

"By that little man with yellow hair?"

Robb nodded "He is Tyrion the Imp of House Lannister."

"The Lions." She offered, to show her recognition of the house.

"Yes. You know his sigil?" She nodded. "Your mother's teaching?" she nodded once more. "It seems that you really do have a thorough knowledge of the houses…" yet again she nodded her head. "So if I were to say that both your hair and eye colours are characteristic of a certain house. That your surname, if you indeed are a bastard, is not Snow rather that it is more likely Waters or perhaps Blacksnow. Would you understand my meaning?"

Myra's mouth fell open. She felt as she had not blinked since he had started speaking, and now her violet eyes were filling with water. "Black?" she uttered, dumbfounded her eyes staring blindly at Robb's figure. His own eyes were fixed intently on her. He hated himself for causing her such anguish. As if by instinct he moved to sit by her side on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hoping it would offer some sort of comfort. She leaned into him, as the tears began pouring freely down her cheeks.

Her sobs shook her as she wept. "I'm sorry, my lord... not normally so…" Robb pulled away from her, taking in the incredible fatigue from the day apparent on her face, he shook his head and her face crumpled into tears once more. He held her closer to him now, with both of his arms. The day was completely gone and the fireplace in her room held mostly dull embers, enough to keep one warm through the night in this season. "A Targaryen bastard" she mumbled against his chest, as her sobs subsided. Her breathing calmed from short pants into easy even paced breaths.

He gently rubbed his cheek against the top of her soft head of shining hair "I am sorry to have caused you such pain and grief."

"Please" she muttered "if anything you calmed me and pain with such tidings is unavoidable" her final strength seemed to falter "but you eased it for me" she sounded very near to collapsing into sleep. His lips curled into a small smile.

"You should rest. I will leave you to..." he moved to stand up, but she held him fast to her.

"No. Please stay" her voice spoke half delirious with sleep "stay and tell me stories…"

"Stories?" he felt himself frown in confusion, as he peer down at her face. She did not speak simply nodded, her eyes fluttering between being open and feigning at wakefulness.

He knew that it would be proper for him to leave. It was anything but appropriate to stay, but as she held him and whimpered at him, he could not find any way to unstick himself from the bed or her. "All right" he huffed. She smiled weakly, he rolled his eyes "But only for a little while."

She held on to him as he moved to rest against the headboard moving her pillow so she could rest her head on it, next to his torso. Silver lifted her head to allow for the movement but did not move her body to create more for the two of them on the bed. Robb ran his hand over his face, noting he did not shave as often as he should have. He tried to think of what stories to tell her. He looked down at her face she seemed to already be asleep, her eyes closed and the corner of her mouth curled slightly upwards. He stole a glance at the door and thought once more about the propriety of leaving.

"Speak…" he heard a soft mumble from beside him. His grey eyes snapped downwards, he grinned at how she never seemed to be quite asleep, despite appearances.

He nosily let a stream of air out of his mouth "I suppose I'll tell the stories my father told me about our house…they were always my favourites as a child…" she gave the smallest of nods. And he began telling her about his hot-headed grandfather, uncle and aunt all of whom had died before he had ever gotten to know them. He spoke of the his Uncle Benjen and the Night's Watch. He spoke last Kings of Winter and the North. He spoke until he had forgotten that he had ever meant to leave at all.

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><p><strong>Done! But not really done… have no clue why but this chapter was a bit weird for me to go over again. It sits a little odd with me...<strong>


	6. Chapter 6: The Dragon Hearth

**I sadly do not own this world or many of the characters in it or much else for that matter. This entire enterprise is, of course, owed to and owned by George R.R. Martin. Long may he give life to and bring forth awesome things!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six – The Dragon Hearth<strong>

Myra woke up not remembering the last time she had felt so rested and at ease. She wanted to sit up to stretch her gradually strengthening body. But as if anticipating her movement Myra felt, what she would have guessed to be an extremely comfortable steel cable tightened around waist. Myra blinked her eyes open, as she became aware of the foreign placement of her body in this bed for the second time in these past few weeks. She could feel the warm breath of what she knew to be a wolf against the back of her bare knee. Her cotton chemise had evidently been kicked up her thigh a little, when she had swung her left leg to over to lie atop both the of Robb Stark's legs. It seemed that her chest was rising and falling with young man's own.

Pressed partially against his side and lying mostly on top of him, she became more aware of her body. But there were other things holding her where she was. Robb's other arm, his right arm was crossed over his chest, cradling the base of her head, his fingers somewhat buried in her hair, so that her face was practically pushed into the skin of his neck. She allowed her eyes to roll back to see what rested above her, but was taken unprepared. It was her hair, rather a tumbled and messy bunch of her silver blonde tresses. Guessing by where his hand rested and the state of her locks, Myra could only assume that Robb had decided to pull the silver gold strands up to his face in the middle of the night. Much as she had unconsciously decided to throw her leg over him. She a felt disheartened at not being able to see his face, though if she looked straight ahead she could a see patch of stubble covered neck she suddenly felt desperate to lay her lips on.

She was shocked at herself for thinking such blatantly indecent thoughts. But she found that with the more time she spent around Robb Stark the less her thoughts became totally her own. Sudden emotions and wants would flare up without any true basis. She wanted to be angry at herself for feeling and acting in the way that she did around him, though she felt truly that she could not. It would be as though she were reprimanding herself for wanting scratch an itch, berating herself for doing something that came naturally to her, as an organic part of her existence. Stopping herself from feeling this way, she was sure, would be as one damming free flowing water at the top of a hill when one lived downriver while requiring a water supply. Utterly pointless and fruitless.

Myra's left hand lay on Robb's chest, just below where his own arm rested. He did not seem to be waking up and caught in the grip of his iron arms Myra felt that she was too weak to move. She was not even sure if she wanted to move anymore. As she traced the softest circles she could against the material covering his chest, Myra thought of what had landed her in this position on this very morning.

A Targaryen bastard…Gods! How could she not have seen it? To be fair her mother had never mentioned the colouring of their house to her before. Though surely there must have been signs! Myra struggled to find a legitimate way to blame herself for not recognizing her heritage alone and much sooner, but was so far she was failing to find a way to hold herself properly liable. The 'if' she had only half heard him speak last night now echoed loudly against the ear drum of her ear. Her mind wandered, wondering what colour hair her true mother would have had. A colour that would have allowed her Targaryen features show clearly enough to let most other people recognize her heritage almost immediately. She knew that the Targaryens had a history of inbreeding, a crime that went against the Old Gods.

Thinking back to those ancient history books, Myra wondered if some of the marks and stains in them had not been deliberately placed over certain words. Now that she thought of it many of the pages regarding the Targaryens had been ruined in that way, much of what she knew of that house and its sordid history had come directly from her mother's mouth. Myra lips curled upwards with a smile weakened by sadness. She would never hear her mother sing again, or peel carrots with her again, or feel her embrace… Myra stopped herself short, she did not want to stay slumped in this sadness. She distracted herself by thinking of the history of Targaryen House.

Jaehaerys the Second, was one of few Targaryens who wed outside of his family and had children, who had children. Rhaegar specifically who, in addition to providing the catalyst for Rebellion, also had children with a woman outside of his bloodline. If the Targaryen features were strong enough to outlast those mixings in blood, maybe she could really be a bastard. Being a bastard was, to her mind, preferable to being a Targaryen heir. Perhaps her true mother simply had fair hair and less dominant qualities...

She wondered what would happen to her now. She knew histories of Baratheon, Stark and Targaryen houses were not violence free or clean. But perhaps if she made it known that she no interest in taking the Iron Throne, taking any power at all for that matter… Would they leave her alone then? Would she be safe if it was made perfectly clear that she wanted to stay in the North? That she wanted to live peacefully and quietly and above all simply? She continued drawing light circles against Robb's chest, all at once wanting him to pull her closer to him. He seemed to read her thoughts, for he tugged her impossibly closer to him, landing her slightly more atop his own body.

Myra stopped moving her fingers and gazed pensively at that spot of neck that she had wanted so badly a mere moment earlier. She wondered if she would be safe if she made it clear that her only wish to was to stay in the North, live with this man and make a whole heap of babies who looked just like him… She licked her dry lips accidently brushing the spot she was so fascinated by on his neck with her tongue. He made a sound, close to a groan, that vibrated through his chest. As quickly as Myra had stuck out her tongue she darted it back into the safety of her mouth. Her lungs tightened within her ribs as she waited for him to react, but he did nothing other than fully relax back into his peaceful sleep.

Myra let herself breathe a little, running her tongue over the back of her teeth. She wondered if he tasted as good as he seemed to smell to her. Yet another irrational and unladylike thought she could not help but entertain in her mind. So long as such thoughts had remained inside of her head it had seemed safe to have them at all, but now that she had had the smallest of tastes her being was filled with the urge to continue along the path that was set before her… beginning at his neck.

"Lord Stark! Lord Stark!" the sound of cries burst through the entire castle. Robb sat up abruptly, not taking his hands from Myra instead seeming to pull her more securely to him. As such she knelt up with him as he jolted awake, her left knee landing on the bed between his legs and her other shifted to sit by his thigh so that she sat facing him perched atop his right leg. His right hand pushed her face harder against his neck, her lips had parted slightly at the sudden movement and added pressure. Despite having been so harshly moved Myra could not feel anything but calm as she inhaled his distinct smell from the nape of his neck. "Lord Stark! Lord Stark! News! There is urgent news!" the cries continued, seeming to increase with the anxiety of not yet having found their lord.

Robb suddenly seemed to remember himself. He brusquely released his grip on her and she tentative moved away from him. "l am sorry" he muttered "I-"

"Lord Stark!" the calls grew louder.

He sighed, leaning further back away from her, pressing his eye closed "I have to go" she picked herself off of him to sit crossed legged on the middle of the bed next to Silver. She had not noticed that Grey Wind had left the bed, spotting him now where he stood waiting by for his man by the door, standing at the ready to serve Robb in whatever way he could.

Robb had already slipped off of the bed, face as weary as ever. He turned to her before leaving "We'll talk…" he offered, with a small sincere smile "when I am done dealing with whatever this is…" he gestured outside the door that he was now opening.

She smiled meekly in return, nodding as she did. When the door had finally closed properly, Myra looked down at Sliver where she sat, reaching out to rub her wolf's head. "I wish mother were here to stop me from being so foolish…" Silver padded closer to the girl on the bed. Myra wound her arms around the wolf neck, holding her in a tight embrace. "He is a Lord…" she mumbled into Silver's shining fur, "I am no one… the bastard child of an enemy monarch…I am less than no one…" Myra heard Silver's soft growl in protest at her words. Causing the girl to nuzzle her nose and chuckle against her wolf's fine pelt.

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><p>Robb had not yet returned when Tyella came in to check on Myra with breakfast. The nurse also added an offer to comb out Myra's unusually messy hair, much to the girl's embarrassment. He had not made an appearance by the time Tyella came back again, just at lunch time, either. The nurse had told Myra that both Lord Stark and Maester Luwin had been in a 'right tizzy' for some reason since the morning. She also apologized for having forgotten to tell Myra that Maester Luwin had decided now would be a safe time for the girl to begin walking in order to help her regain her strength. Maester Luwin suggested that Myra should build up to going further and further each day, though that she should be sure to not overexert herself.<p>

Myra thanked Tyella and told her that there was no need for her to apologize. As she ate her vegetable soup and Sliver chewed on the deer bones brought for her, the excitement she had initially felt at the prospect of venturing outdoors left her. She thought of the Lannister just the day before, now that she knew her true bastard heritage she thought of all of her would be foes. She wondered if she would be able to maneuver her way 'out there'.

In this room the people she meet seemed kindly, but she knew them to be in the service of Robb and they had mostly like been told to treat her as such. Robb. She placed her spoon in the nearly empty bowl and sat the bowl on the table next to the bed. She wondered of the position she he put him and his loved ones in simply by having Targaryen blood running through her veins and remaining at Winterfell. She wondered if she was even allowed to take walks freely on the grounds of Winterfell. She could see the problems she may cause should the wrong eyes see her.

She glanced at Sliver, who lay by on the floor by the bed with her bones and meat, deciding on how to proceed. Myra raised her violet eyes to the door, and wondered if Tyella or Mena may happen to be outside, which would perhaps allow her to indirectly ask for Robb's permission to walk the grounds. Myra threw the covers off of herself, placing her feet on the ground beside Silver. She walked to the door taking a deep breath as she reached for the handle. Sliver had moved to stand by her side.

Myra opened the door, only to see what appeared to be an empty hallway, lit mostly by glass paned windows cut out of the grey stone walls. "Damn…" she muttered, poking her head out of the door to make sure she had not missed anyone in the hall accidently.

Out of nowhere she heard the sound a wolf growling. A black ferocious thing, slightly smaller than Sliver, with wild green eyes rounded the corner to her right. Myra felt her breath catch in her throat, and her fingers clutch painfully at the door frame. Silver moved to standing protectively in front of the girl, snarling and bristling, preparing to defend Myra if need be. Oddly enough, despite the fact that the black direwolf frightened her, Myra felt that the wolf was no real threat to her. He was simply afraid by what he had not expected and was responding offensively out of that fear. She recognized this trait in the wolf, particularly because it matched one of the human faults Myra had witnessed in her own mother. "Silver…" she breathed "calm down, please…" the tension in Silver's stance eased a little at Myra's words, though she did not move from her place in front of the girl.

"Shaggydog!" as small voice echoed around the same corner the black direwolf had come from, followed by the shape of a very small person with long, light reddish-brown hair and deep cobalt eyes. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene of Myra and the two wolves.

A child! Myra almost gasped. She smiled widely and warmly at the boy. "Hello, I am Myra..." her mouth stuck on a surname "Just Myra." She grinned "And this" she reached down to stroke her wolf back into being completely docile "is Silver. What is your name?"

The little youth moved towards her apprehensively, and Silver began to calm down significantly, apparently guardedly trusting the child. "I am Rickon Stark and this" he stated coming stand beside the wolf, who though being smallish nearly reached the boy's height "is Shaggydog." He looked up at her as though expecting to be teased.

She smiled down at the endearing boy, now that she saw him properly she saw that his hair was the same colour as her mother's maybe a shade or two lighter. She felt a warmth begin to grow in her. "I like that name" she shifted her eyes to black direwolf next to the child "and he really is quite shaggy…"

Rickon nodded "That's what I told them too…"

"Them?"

"My sisters and brothers…"

"Oh?" she smiled softly at the little boy. "It does not seem very nice of them to tease you about that…"

"Robb says it's 'cause I'm the littlest," the boy's voice suddenly sounded weak and small as reached out to rest his hand on the black wolf, who shifted to sit next to him.

Myra's own smile faltered when she heard the pain in the little boy's tone. She crouched down to be eye level with little Rickon Stark. "Tell me little pup, what is it like is to have brothers and sisters?"

Rickon's eye flashed with happiness "It's the best! But only when we're together! Don't you have any brothers and sisters?" he asked his mouth twisting with childlike confusion.

"No" genuinely sad she shook her head. "Though I imagine having a big brother like Robb would be wonderful."

"It is, but Jon and Bran are good too. Ayra and Sansa aren't so bad for girls either I guess" he shrugged.

"That quite a few names…you all have direwolves too, right?" the boy nodded. "Well I've met Shaggydog and Grey Wind already but how about the others?" She continued to smile gently at him.

"Jon has Ghost, Bran has Summer, Sansa called hers Lady, but she was sent back home to be buried, and Ayra has Ny- Ny" he let out an exasperated exhale, as Myra nodded encouragingly "Nymeria."

"That's a very good memory you have there, little pup. And do you know how old they are?" Myra asked. It seemed that talking about his siblings eased the boy's trouble so she focused on that subject. Though in truth she found his description of the Stark family far more interesting than any other way she had heard of the family described before.

The boy pouted a bit before speaking "Well the direwolves are all from the same mother from a when I had seven name-days. But now Jon and Robb have seventeen name-days, Sansa has thirteen, Ayra has twelve, Bran is going to have eleven next year and I only have eight…" he seemed to tick each off with a satisfied nod of his head.

"Wow! Little pup, that is certainly more than just a 'good' memory you have" she grinned, truly impressed by his attentiveness. "I did not know that your brother Robb had a twin."

Rickon's expression coloured with puzzlement, before he seemed grasp what she meant "Oh Jon's not a Stark he's…"

"A Snow" Robb's voice finished for the little boy, "but that does not make him any less our brother, right Rickon?" Robb asked meaningfully as he walked from the corner of the hall toward the child, the still crouching Myra and their wolves, with Grey Wind brushing by him to run his neck against Sliver's before sitting next to her.

"Right…" Rickon nodded looking up at his elder brother, before dropping eyes back down to Myra, whose own eyes had trouble leaving the older Stark's form. Nevertheless, she met the younger boy's blue gaze "I do miss Ayra and Sansa too" he seemed to admit against his will "but I miss Jon a lot, he's gone to the Wall for the Night's Watch…you what that is?" he asked, beginning to speak with more volume, clearly getting excited, he did not wait for her to answer his question "it protects us, they do, and keep out the bad things behind the wall and…"

"Rickon." Robb interrupted his little brother as the child was in danger of talking himself into a frenzy. The younger Stark looked up at his brother. "Maybe you can explain the Night Watch to Myra in a little while. You still have to go to lunch" Rickon opened his mouth, but Robb continued "and if I hear anything about peas 'accidently' falling to the ground I may just have you eat them up off the floor. You understand me?" Robb stated sternly, though there was a good natured tone behind all he said.

Rickon nodded bitterly. Before he left, he looked at the Myra still crouching at his eye level. "Your hair" he stated. "It's really shiny…" he rubbed his finger together absentmindedly.

"Rickon!" Robb began to rebuke his little brother, when Myra stopped him.

"It's all right, he's right, it is shiny" she took a length of her hair and held it out in Rickon's direction, she smiled at him affectionately "it's ok you can touch it if you like…" Rickon moved towards her, and held her hair between his fingers, his blue eyes filled with wonder. "it's like the sun" the boy muttered, her smile widened.

"Like the sun" Robb's voice echoed his brother's, though they seemed to hold more weight. When Myra lifted her gaze to meet the elder Stark's, she nearly fell back against the doorframe, taken aback the by the intensity she found in those stormy grey eyes.

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><p><strong>So was in a weird mood for these past two chapters - working on it. Do plan on tweaking with clear eyes once the story is done! :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7: A Gleaming Weight

**Hello! Been working away on this, trying to figure out how long it would take to travel in Westeros, as George R. R. Martin himself has not worked that out completely yet. But, by trolling around a little bit on the internet this is what I've gotten, and is the reason for the pacing in this and the chapters that follow. Just wanted to, you know, debrief on that. So…let's go!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven – A Gleaming Weight<strong>

After Rickon had walked back down the hall with Shaggydog, grumbling as he went, Robb held out his hand to Myra in an offer to help her stand up. Myra gently bit her bottom lip between her teeth, though she took his hand she found her eyes looking anywhere but directly at him. She wondered about what would happen. What would he say? What could she say? A part of her was desperate to discuss what had gone on yesterday. Another part trembled in fear of what would change or may change by their talking.

"Myra" she heard Robb's voice very close to her.

"Mmmm…" she offered, not trusting the words she may speak, her eyes were still focused on the floor.

"You are standing now…" he whispered.

"Huh?" Her eyes finally shifted and took in where she had gotten to. She was standing barely a half foot away from Robb's body, the hand that he had used to pull her up was between them, though his grip had loosened her hand held on to him tightly. He had a mildly smug, mostly amused smile on his lips.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, drawing her arm away from him. When she saw that smile had not shifted from his face, she stopped herself from apologizing. She simply raised her chin, and almost wanting to stamp her foot she spoke "Oh, shut up!" She heard him chuckle as she brushed through the doorway back into her room.

"Sorry lady, I did not mean to offend you" he apologized as he followed her through the door. Despite not being able to see his face, Myra could practically hear the self-satisfied smile in the tenor of his voice. She took a breath to reply, but found the air catch in her throat. Her legs felt shaky under her, after not having used them for weeks her muscles had become strained at crouching for so long.

"Myra?" Robb rushed forward, placing an arm around her waist to help support her. She could hear the patter of Grey Wind and Silver moving closer as well. She turned her head to face the man next to her, all of the amusement had drained from his expression. His worried grey eyes roamed her face, searching for what could be wrong.

"I am fine" she felt Silver's relatively small body rub against her right leg. She looked down at her wolf. "I am fine" Myra stated much more firmly. With each breath she felt her strength flow back into her body. Her violet eyes moved back to Robb's face, "Robb…" she grinned lightheartedly "I am still standing."

"Oh!" his eyes widened and his arm dropped from her body, he took a step back away. Myra missed the support he provided her, she could stand by herself but felt stronger with him close by.

Now with him standing away from her, Myra could see how the tension building in the silence between them was filling his being. "We should…" he began, sighing before he continued in a less heavy tone "We should talk."

Myra nodded her head, she knew that too much had happened in the past few days and weeks to not talk. No matter how fearful she was of the outcome of what he had to say. "I was just seeing if anyone was out in hall that could ask you something for me."

"Ask me something?"

"Just if I was free to go for a walk outside. I know…I know because of who…" she coughed a little, out awkwardness "I just did not want to cause any trouble for you…"

Sliver nudged her leg, and Myra could not bring herself to look down at her. She knew how pitiful she must have sounded to her wolf.

He seemed to mulling over something in his head, his eyes full of steely concentration "If you have the strength to go out today. I will join you, if that is agreeable with you."

"Of course" she smiled "I have never really been an enthusiast for becoming lost." She reached for the cloak lying on the bed, but halted half way realizing that it was a piece of Robb's clothing. It was his cloak that she wanted wrapped around her as she ventured into an unfamiliar place. Her violet eyes darted around the room, searching in vain for some hidden cabinet or piece of cloth that she may have missed in all of her weeks in this stone chamber.

Robb suddenly spoke up. "I will have Mena bring you a proper dress. I have to speak with Maester Luwin for a moment, I will come back soon. Keep the cloak, it is cold out there." With that he left with Grey Wind at his side.

* * *

><p>Silver bounded through the growth surrounding the godswood. She seemed at excited as Myra felt to be outdoors and breathing fresh air again. Grey Wind followed in her playful suit, happily chasing and rolling around in the dust and the dirt. The godswood sat within the fortress walls of Winterfell, on the other side of the guest quarters, the side that Myra could not see from her window. It was beautiful, filtered with rust tinted light from between the branches of the trees. Though she had never seen anything quite as large and overwhelming as castle of Winterfell, she found it difficult to compare to these woods. Myra could sense that it was place to collect thoughts and regain strength. She wondered if she would feel quite so at peace if Robb had not been by her side.<p>

She looked at the grey-eyed man walking next to her, he was smiling as he watch their wolves run through the trees. "It's good to see him be so lively…" he said.

"Yes it's nice to see Silver like this too."

They came upon a slight stone plateau, "Shall we sit?" Robb gestured to the stone.

"Yes, I think my legs and lungs could use a rest." They took their seats while Silver and Grey Wind disappeared further into the woods.

Robb cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair he began "I- I do not know what to say…" he took a deep breath, staring straight ahead he appeared to almost be speaking to himself "I feel have to tell someone or I shall explode into million pieces…"

Myra was taken quite by surprise. Perhaps he was having trouble finding the words to express what was inexplicably happening between the both of them as well. But as she took in the distraught sight of him it became clear that he was obviously not speaking about the events that had transpired between them during the morning and the evening before.

"Robb…" she wanted to reach out to him, but stopped herself from doing so. Instead she tugged his borrowed cloak close around herself as she continued apprehensively, unsure if she could handle what he might have to say "What is it? What's wrong?"

"My mother…" he said, barely above a whisper.

"Your mother?" She asked, raising her brow in question.

Robb let out a frustrated breath and took a moment to gather his thoughts. He turned now to look directly into her violet eyes as he spoke. "News came today…she has been accused of taking Tyrion Lannister captive on her way back from King's Landing just a few days ago… you do know of King's Landing do you not?"

Myra nodded while frowning, as she was still confused by subject as well as the content of what he was saying. She knew of King's Landing as the lush land in the South where the Iron Throne sat and Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters had first landed with their dragons in Westeros. What she did not understand was why Robb's mother would take the son of one of the most powerful houses in the Seven Kingdoms prisoner.

"Why would your mother do such a thing?"

"My younger brother, Bran, was a great climber…he survived a fall from the Broken Tower in Winterfell, a little over a two months ago. Well, at least he survived what looked like a fall at first…my mother found a strand of blonde hair signature of the Lannisters' coulouring in the tower from which he fell, you see they had been visiting here as a part of the King's party … in any case she went to inspect the tower following an altogether separate attempt on his life as he lay unconscious broken after his fall…" Robb had gone from looking at Myra to running his eyes and fingers over the lines on the palms of his hands.

"She had sat by his bedside for a month weaving protective charm ornaments and praying to her Seven gods…one night I went to his room and asked her to take leave of her post at his bedside. She was deteriorating day by day…when I opened the windows to let in some fresh air I- I caught sight of a fire in the hills…" he lifted his gaze to make clear his meaning "…one that had to be stopped before it reached down the slopes to Winterfell."

She was sure that the shock she was feeling had slowly etched its way across her features as she absorbed what he was telling her. Turning his eyes back to his palms he carried on "that was the night he was attacked, her hands were completely slashed up" her eyes followed his fingers as they traced over his palms, "by a knife too fine to belong to anyone but one of the Lannisters… had it not been for Summer, his wolf, Bran may have been…" he trailed off.

"But…" she tried to figure out what to say, he had given her a great deal of information to process in a short amount of time. Myra thought of what she, personally, would want to know of her family in such a situation, and so she asked "Is your brother all right now?"

He nodded. "He is awake, but says that he remembers nothing from just before his fall. And…his legs are totally paralyzed, beyond any healing…" Robb continued with his intent focus on his hands as he went on "he was so unreachable before Tyrion's return visit from the Wall" Myra felt even more confused, but Robb addressed her confusion before she could sound it "the Lannister had heard of Bran's legs from my brother, Jon, and had brought a design for a horse saddle that would allow Bran to ride again" he faced her grinning half-heartedly "…and the damned thing actually worked."

"Wait," Myra squeezed her eyelids shut as she tried to keep up. "Okay," she opened her eyes to see Robb patiently waiting for her to speak. "You said she was accused? Explain why a Lannister would help your brother then clarify that...please."

"Well, as a dwarf Tyrion gave the reason that he felt a sense of camaraderie with bastards and cripples, he also seemed to be curious as to how Bran had come to fall from the Broken Tower. As for my mother, she went covertly to King's Landing to tell my father…"

"The Hand of the King?"

"Right" the left side of mouth quirked in a small smile "you remembered…" she responded with a nod, as he continued. "My mother was returning from telling my father of her suspicions regarding the Lannisters, when according to several witnesses she ran into Tyrion on the Kingsroad, he was last seen speaking to her. And my mother has not yet returned from her journey, so I cannot be sure of what happened but even accusations have consequences…"

"Consequences?"

"Upon learning of my mother's supposed kidnapping of Tyrion, his brother Jaime the Kingslayer" Myra's eyes widened in recognition of the title. It was surreal to have heard of events that had occurred before her birth and study the people involved in those events and then to realize that those people were still alive. Not only that, but that those people were still actively participating in the world. Though Robb had mentioned Lord Eddard Stark and King Robert Baratheon prior to this particular discussion, it continued to be difficult for her to digest that people, who may as well have been fictional historical characters, were real.

"You know that name?…" Robb asked. A question to which she silently offered a nod to again "… well Jaime... he got wind of the rumour of his brother being forcibly taken by my mother and saw fit to attack my father in the middle of the streets in King's Landing to get him back."

"He publically attacked the Hand of the King?"

"Well, I do not know exactly what happened, but my father had given up his position as the Hand, for that short span of time seemingly set on coming back up North with my sisters. And Jaime Lannister, being who he is, was able to flee the city without facing any repercussions for the attack…"

There was long silence that fell between them. It was not uncomfortable, but it was full of contemplation. As Myra sat listening to the birds chirp and wind blow, she wondered at how the world could continue on in this way when so much had happened. She was trying to work out how to make sense of what he was he telling her, why he was even telling her.

Myra exhaled a breath of air, but it did not steam in this particular land and she felt a sudden pang of longing for her simple hills. She could not decide on anything, too many matters were up in the air. She did not even know what she was meant to decide on, if she was meant to decide on anything at all.

She glanced at Robb, with all of the problems that seemed to swirl around him. Even with what he had involved her in by telling her of his strife, he remained to be the one person she felt grounding her. Not even grounding her to the Earth, rather providing her with a stable place to anchor herself on within himself. Myra thought once more of what would be most important to her in such a situation, "It seems I do not know what to say myself…" she took a deep breath before speaking again "… I am glad that your brother and father live…" and she truly was, she did not know if she could bear his pain at losing any members of the family he clearly held so dearly.

"I am glad that they live as well. I did not need any assurances or suggestions. Having someone to simply listen is helpful," he smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

She looked at him once again, with concern colouring her countenance "How are you?"

"I am… thoroughly at a loss at what to do…" he admitted, letting his head fall to look at the leaf covered ground by his feet. "Theon keeps eating my head about war, but something inside me just rejects that option…so long as rejecting it is possible. I don't want people dying for unreasonable causes because of my choices…"

Myra found her hand reaching out, pulling at his stubble covered chin so that he would face her. "As a student of history, however unenthusiastic I may have been, I can tell you that your statement sounds like that which marks of the makings of a great leader Robb."

"Are you sure of that?" he chuckled humourlessly.

"Yes." Myra said without any doubt in her voice. She dropped her fingers from his face and asked in a half disdainful, half joking tone "Who is this idiotic Theon anyway?"

Her attempt at easing the mood had evidently worked, Robb laughed and proceeded to describe the once would-be 'prince' Greyjoy that he had grown up with and now that he saw as an older near brother figure. "Theon saved Bran's life from a group of Wildlings. Bran was riding thanks to Tyrion's design, and there were three of them that appeared from nowhere. I had gotten there in time to save Bran from two of the men, and I had gotten hold of the girl in the group but the last man was holding a knife to Bran's throat… if Theon had not been there to shoot the man I would laid down my sword and Bran and I may have died anyway…the girl works as a servant in Winterfell now…but if Theo…"

"If Theon yes, yes…" Myra interrupted him, she did not like how he was placing and painting himself in these stories "You do not give yourself enough credit Robb…" he scoffed as she began to list off, "if you had not been there to stop the first men Bran could gotten hurt, if you had not stopped Theon that girl may have died, if you had not gone to Bran's room to speak to your mother you may not have seen the fire in time, you may not have saved me…"

Robb stared at her wearily almost spontaneously raising his right hand to cup her cheek, he traced his thumb softly over the suddenly flushed skin by her lips. "Saved you, only as far as I have… no matter how ever small you are little dragon, Tyrion will surely send word of you. You will be discovered as my mother was on the Kingsroad, and I..."

"You won't be rid of me that easy" she teased, more for herself anyone else, though his smile now lighted his grey eyes.

"No," he spoke gently "I would not be…"

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><p><strong>There we are for the time being anyway. As always please forgive any poor editing, did honestly try to catch it all...It's quite suddenly already February… holy moly!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8: End Points

**Hello! And we get back into it. Twice in a day. Yay! (Unless writer's block decides to crash this party...swear everything but the precise words are planned out)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight – End Points<strong>

It was apparent that Robb that had been in a near constant state of strain since the news of his father's injury and his mother's action against the Lannisters two weeks ago. Whenever Myra spotted Robb in a moment when he thought he was alone, he was either rubbing his temples or pressing his palms against he closed eyes.

She did not mean to spy on him at such times but found that she had no control over her violet eyes, immediately upon entering a new space they checked to see where he may be. Silver was no help in keeping Myra prudent, almost as soon as Myra and she left their room her wolf would take off in search of Grey Wind and wherever Grey Wind was Robb was also likely to be. He was quick to smile when he noticed her, even before he would catch sight of her Myra could visibly see the pressure built up in his shoulders and neck roll away.

They had yet to talk about their strange interactions. Myra told herself it was because she did not want to add to his long list of worries, which was partially true. But deep under her bones Myra knew that the true reason that she did not bring it up was because she did not want to disturb whatever pattern it was that they had fallen into. Going for walks in peaceful silence or joking or talking about their memories and their ideas on things in the world.

He told her that his nanny had told him the sky was blue because they lived inside of the eye of a blue-eyed giant named Macumba. Robb told her of the time he and his brother, Jon, took to stealing oranges from the kitchen and eating them in the groves thinking that they were incredibly clever, only to realize years later that their father was well aware of what they were doing because of the peels that they left behind amongst trees.

Myra and he had laughed about such stories, about how she would deny climbing trees only to have her mother pull twigs and leaves out of her hair. She told him of the first time she had tried to use the bow that she had begged her mother to get for her then how the arrows fell to the ground before she could even shoot them and how she had spent hours trying to figure out why, until she finally allowed her mother to show her the way to use a bow properly.

A part of Myra felt guilty for laughing with him while her mother was gone and his family was in so much turmoil, but he seemed better for it. She relished in seeing him as he was with her. In his dealings with others outside of Rickon and herself, Robb seemed distant, distracted and slightly harsher. She could sense something in him unfurling with each passing day.

Rickon had become a daily fixture in her life as well. He would talk about the different places around Winterfell that held importance for him. The place where Shaggydog had killed a rat, where he had found the best stones for skipping, the place where is father taught him the Stark words, where his aunt was buried, where his brother Bran had fallen… Even as the youngest Stark, Rickon seemed to be aware that something was amiss. However, for as much time as Rickon would spend around Myra he would also spend time alone, suddenly appearing and popping up out of some shadowy corner of the fortress.

Myra found Theon to be funny. He was obviously a proud, crass sort of person but the comments he made, intentional or not, caused Myra to smile to herself. Most days she could not believe the words that would come out of his mouth, but it was not all bad. When speaking to Robb, Theon did appear to try to offer somewhat well-meaning advice. The fact he really seemed to care about the Starks was clear, which added substantially to his character in Myra's view.

Next to Myra, Silver padded down the steps from guest quarters into the courtyard of Winterfell. The girl heard the thwack of Theon's target practicing while he was speaking to someone. As she walked closer to the voices she saw Maester Luwin speaking and sitting at a table next to a brown-haired boy she had never seen before. Considering his dress and manner of speaking she assumed that this boy must have been Bran. Though Myra had lived in Winterfell for almost two months she had not met Bran, she had thought about going to introduce herself to him, but supposed that it would be awkward to suddenly present herself to the young boy after all of the trauma he had experienced. Meeting the lost girl from the hills would probably be the furthest thing from the boy's mind and the last thing he would want to concern himself with at the moment.

Myra could not think of a time she came upon Theon where he was not glorifying and gloating about the Iron Islands. The boy's bitter voice carried towards her "Duty. Honour. Family…"

"You know the words of your mother's house, Bran…" Maester Luwin spoke tiredly.

"Honour. Duty. Family…" Bran offered in dismissive tone.

"No…Ah, hello Myra…" Maester Luwin interrupted his correction of Bran when he noticed Myra approaching.

"Maester Luwin…" she replied in warm greeting to the older man. She turned to face Bran "Hello, you must be Bran…" the young boy nodded "Rickon talks about you" she spotted a direwolf resting under the table by Bran's feet. "And this must be Summer" Myra knelt to greet the justly named direwolf, with his warm butterscotch eyes. "Hello Summer" she smiled straightening up to take a seat opposite Bran. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Bran's gaze had followed her as she moved, he had smiled when Myra addressed Summer. He nodded now, "They told me about your hair…"

"Bran!" Maester Luwin interjected.

But the boy continued "…and your eyes. You're Myra" he then gestured to her violet-eyed wolf adding "and Silver."

"Yes, and judging by the papers you have in front of you, you are a studying about the houses in Westeros…" Bran nodded. She sighed "I remember those pains well, you have my sympathies…" Bran's mouth widened into a full smile filled with the genuine recognition of finding a shared experience in another person.

"He is doing so well" Theon contributed sarcastically from behind Myra, as yet another of his arrows hit the target he went on practicing.

"You had to learn these as well?" Bran asked ignoring the Greyjoy.

Myra nodded. "If I am not mistaken House Tully words are Family. Duty. Honour."

Bran's smile faded into a frown. "They should be…" Maester Luwin huffed a breath of weariness.

"Are they not?" Myra frowned now as well "From what Robb has told me of your mother, she lives and dies for her family…"

"Then why is she not here?"

Myra opened her mouth, then closed it failing to find the right words. She reached across the table opening Bran clenched right fist "Hmmm…" she looked curiously at his palm, "It is strange the things that parents do," then she held out her own right palm on the table next his. Wishing that it was only Bran here to hear what it was that she had decided to say to a boy that barely knew her. "Even now I do not pretend to understand why my mother did all of things that she did. But…" she lifted her eyes to look a Bran, well aware that Maester Luwin and Theon were watching what she was doing with just as much curiosity as the boy before her.

"I do know that despite everything she loved me, now that she is gone I still feel her love for me or at least my love for her." She took a breath to keep from speaking too quickly "I know you miss your mother. Sometimes I find myself becoming angry at my mother for leaving me too…I miss her and am scared without her as well but I can be certain that all of what she did was because she cared about me even if I could not see all of her reasons. I am sure you know your mother loves you…deeply and with all of her heart…just as mine did."

Bran stared at her looking rather blank in the face of what she was saying. He was slow to nod. But he did nod his head. "I wish she would come home" he spoke so quietly, she barely heard him.

"Bran!" A loud voice sounded through the courtyard. Before Myra knew what happening a streak of red hair had flown past Maester Luwin's head. "Let me see you. Oh!" It was a woman, who was quite beautiful to Myra's eyes, she was furiously kissing every inch of Bran's face she could reach. Stopping hardly of a second between each kiss to take in the sight of her son. She had lifted Bran to sit on her lap "Let me hold you." She hugged him to her chest "Thank the Mother you are back!" She pulled away from him a little pushing his long hair away from his face. "Do you remember anything?"

"No mother…" Bran said disbelief at her uncanny arrival still in his features.

"No matter, you have come back to me" she smiled, seeming to be on the brink of laughing with joy.

"Robb said you had taken Tyrion" Bran's brow now furrowed with confusion "we thought you were in trouble…"

"The Lannister?" The woman's blue eyes widened in shock as she glanced over her son's head at Maester Luwin.

"Yes my lady. Rumours having been spreading since you were spotted speaking to him on the Kingsroad."

"That is not true. Well, I did meet him on the Kingroad" she looked down at her son "But I told him I was on my way to visit my sister at the Eyrie, in hopes of not arousing his suspicions…"

"You did not take him, then?"

"No…perhaps the hill tribes?" she suggested to Maester Luwin "They have gotten wilder as my sister has become paranoid about…ah, protecting the Vale. And the Lannister did have items of clear value on him…I did think on it though, taking him I mean," Lady Stark let her attention fall back to her young son "But I then I remembered the words Robb had spoken to me before I had left and thought it better to get confirmation on what the Lannisters may have been capable of from Lysa first…" she passed Maester Luwin a meaningful look.

"You truly went? You rode all the way from here to King's Landing to the Eyrie and back within two months!" the older man exclaimed.

"Yes, nearly killed the horses…where is Robb? I should speak with him about this Lannister matter..." her eyes began scanning the courtyard for where her eldest son could be.

"He is reading a letter that came from Sansa just now, my lady." Maester Luwin stated.

However, Lady Stark had become distracted as her blue eyes had finally landed on Myra. Upon entering the fortress she only had eyes for her son and had been preoccupied following that, but now that she saw the girl sitting opposite her, the older woman noticeably blanched. Her mouth fell. Myra felt increasingly awkward, she had thought of leaving when they had begun discussing personal matters, but had not wanted to do anything to draw attention to herself. Lady Stark looked to Maester Luwin as though to ask a question, but then she turned back to Myra.

Myra could sense her cheek becoming red, as this great lady of WInterfell, Robb's mother scrutinized her. "You are the girl they found?"

Myra nodded her silver gold head "Yes, my lady. I am Myra."

"She told me you would love no matter what…" Bran offered, obviously detecting his mother's discomfort with Myra's presence.

Lady Stark's eyes moved back to her son's "That could not be more true, my love." She kissed his forehead, then faced Myra again opening her mouth to address the girl.

"Maester Luwin!" Robb's voice echoed through the courtyard, loud enough to interrupt any conversations occurring within the walls of WInterfell no doubt. "My father has been taken prisoner for treason. I am called to King's Landing to bend the knee to Joffrey. Call the banners!" Robb came to a halt in his racing when he reached the table where everyone seemed to be seated. Grey Wind had already found his place against Silver.

He took in the sight before him. "Mother?"

"What do you mean your father has been taken prisoner?" was her only response. The volume of her voice was quiet, but her tone was deadly. Out of the corner of her eye Myra saw a wild looking girl, with shackles on her ankles approach the table slowly.

"I mean that little shit Joffrey and his tyrant of a mother have imprisoned him for treason. This" he held out a piece of paper to his mother, who shifted Bran in her arms a little to take the paper from Robb "came from Sansa less than quarter of an hour ago. I only just read it now…I think you can agree it is her hand but…"

"The Queen's words…" his mother finished for him. "Robb" she lifted her eyes from the letter, jaw clenched in obvious anger "I think you are right…we have to call the banners…"

"Yes…" Myra heard Theon's fuzzy sounding voice comment from behind her. For Myra, all the world seemed to be filtering through the thoughts now churning in her head. Robb was going to war. Her Robb was going to battle…

Robb nodded, he looked purposively at Maester Luwin, who appeared almost reluctant to go do as he was bid. "Osha" Robb now called to the wild looking girl "Go take Bran to his room…please…"

"Yes my lord…" the girl moved towards the young boy.

"But I don't want to go…" Bran argued.

"Come Bran, I will go with you." Myra spoke up, seeing an opening for her to leave this discussion that was clearly out of her depth. She would have offered to carry Bran herself, but her arms were longer quite as strong as they once were and she did not want to risk dropping the boy. "Your brother and mother have much to talk about."

Bran conceded, allowing Osha to lifted him from his mother's lap. Robb's grey-eyes flicked to her filled with gratitude, she smiled meekly at him. As she, Osha, Bran and Summer made their way through the castle, Myra realized that Silver had stayed behind with Grey Wind and Robb. She must have felt the part of Myra that desired to stay with Robb in his time of distress, despite the fact she logically had no appropriate place in such a conversation.

"I am worried for father and my sisters now too. I hope they are all right…" Bran muttered, seeming even more downtrodden than he had before his mother had suddenly appeared.

"Me too…" Myra said, sincerely meaning it.

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><p>Robb walked with Grey Wind into Myra's room, where she lay sleeping restlessly judging by the twisted sheets and Silver's place on the ground. There was a chance that the arrival of the banners and looming march had been a strain for her, so many people in Winterfell clearly overwhelmed her. Myra had taken to hanging around Bran and Rickon, haunting the dark parts of the castle with them, avoiding the swarms of people. Robb had half a mind to join them, even after Grey Wind had bitten off Lord Umber's fingers, Robb at times felt unsure of his leadership abilities. He knew he had changed in his dealings with people, even with his mother. Robb doubted his mother would have accepted Myra's presence in Winterfell so easily if she had been itching to leave to save her husband. His mother fear appeared to only add to her nervousness about Robb's inexperience in battle. He was very aware that he much left to prove everyone, especially to those who were not of House Stark.<p>

Myra made some incoherent noise in her sleep getting a hold of his attention. He found it strange she seemed to be peaceful when Grey Wind used to lay with her. She was usually as still as a log whenever he was watching her sleep, that night he had stayed with her was the most calm sleep he had ever had in his life. Silver nudged her nose against his leg, urging him to move though he could have stayed where he was, watching her all night long.

Robb did not bother to wake her, he just sat on the bed and scooped her body into a crushing hug against himself. He felt his chest expand and his eyes close as he took in a huge inhale at the curve of her neck. Holding her after resisting for so many hours of so many days when she was within arm's reach was something akin to be saved from drowning and finally taking a gulp of fresh air.

"Wha- Robb?" he could hear the surprise in her voice. "What is it?"

"We are leaving" his voice came out mumbled with his lips pushed against the skin at the nape of her neck.

She seemed to hear him though her arms pulled out of the circle of his grip, and wrapped tightly around his shoulders. If Robb did not know any better he would have thought she was trying to hold him, to keep him here with her. He heard a small gasp of air against his ear, as she clutched at him, "Don't go…" Gods she felt so warm and soft and safe to him.

"I can't let the army leave without a leader, can I?" he swore she shivered slightly under his lips.

"Then take me with you."

He shook his head, so that his nose brushed gently against her skin. "I am not taking Bran or Rickon and I am most certainly not taking you."

"Am I suddenly a child?" Robb could just about see her pouting.

"I do not know. Are you?" He teased. "Are you not going to tell me to be quiet?" He asked when she did not respond to his mocking.

She shook her head, her hair brushed against his face as she drew herself closer to him, "You'll leave. Don't stop talking…"

Robb felt his grasp tighten around her, "I have to…" he breathed. Pulling out of the haven her arms gave him. Myra squeezed him for a moment longer, before letting him go. She had crossed her legs and her hands fell into her lap, Silver had pounced on to the bed while Grey Wind remained on the floor. The wolf, like all of the other wolves had been growing steadily, she now took up more space on the bed and her head seemed larger lying against Myra's knee.

Though Silver had moved, Myra's violet eyes remained focused on Robb. She looked to be hanging between saying something and holding her tongue. Her gaze dropped to his hip all at once she demanded: "Give me your dagger." She held out her right hand expectantly.

Robb own eyes widened in unease, "Why?" he asked looking at her outstretched hand, then back at her face.

"To gut you, so you stay… is that not apparent?" She spoke with mock seriousness. Myra smiled at her own joke, "Robb, please just trust me…"

"All right" he pulled out the sharp metal, out of its scabbard "Don't hurt yourself…" she rolled her eyes at his caution as he handed the blade to her. She promptly lifted the sheet that lay on the bed, beginning a tear with the dagger, ripping a small strip of the cloth the rest of the way off of the sheet. Robb watched with Silver and Grey Wind, trying to figure out what the odd girl was doing. Before he knew it Myra had the dagger held against a relatively small width of her silver gold hair, she had sliced off at least two inches of that portion of her hair. Robb did not even blink before it seemed to be done.

She held the dagger back to him. "Myra…" he reached out to take back the blade ""Wha…"

"It was getting long anyway" she shrugged, distractedly tying her silver locks with the cloth she had cut earlier. When she was finished she held the bundle out to him, while her actions had been so determined and deliberate just before, she looked to be nervous now. Her gaze darted between the bundle and his dumbfounded face "I just- you just liked the smell…I thought…" she trailed off, her voice suggested she was second-guessing herself.

Robb pulled her into the tightest hug he could muster without breaking any of her ribs. "I do like it, Myra." He mummer against her hair, "Thank you." he hated what he had to say next "I have to go…"

"Then go, before I find a way to keep you here always…" she said in a small muffled voice. Robb moved as fast as he could, dragging his hand over her own taking the strands she had tied for him, he gave Silver's head a quick brush and strode over to the door.

As she finished giving Grey Wind's head an affectionate rub he looked back at her. Before following his wolf out of the door and leaving completely, he began to speak "I…"

"Won't get hurt" she finished for him resolutely.

He nodded with a small sniff and smile "I won't get hurt." Then he was gone.

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><p><strong>Boom! Once again beware of ye old editing zombie…argh.<strong>


	9. Chapter 9: Baleful Whispers

**And we're back!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine – Baleful Whispers<strong>

In the weeks since Robb and the troops of the North had left there had been no word of what the status of the armies were. Both Bran and Rickon had become withdrawn in those first few days following the great departure from Winterfell. Myra had fared little better. She only forced to herself to try to do things each day because every idle moment she found herself with was consumed with worry for Robb.

His scent was nearly completely gone from the pillow he had slept on so many nights ago… and there was no logical reason to simply remain in bed anymore. Though she continued to use the cloak that he gave her, in the right places he was still there.

Myra discovered that leaving her room allowed her get Bran and Rickon out of their slumps as well. In addition to praying in the godswood with Bran she had taken to practicing her archery with the boy in the courtyard. At first the young boy was bitter about the apparent impossibility of ever being able to shoot again, but Myra found that by having Bran seated straight-backed in a chair turned at a right angle away from the target, with the added weight of Summer on his lap to help keep him anchored where he was, allowed the boy to shoot. Together they became strong again. Maester Luwin promised that Bran would be shooting better than the Dothraki soon enough, which lifted the boy's spirits.

Though the boys provided her with distractions, Myra's eyes more often than not travelled in the direction of the snow covered hills. She wondered if there was anything of her old life left there. It made her heart heave each time she thought of what she may have abandoned there in the snow with her mother. Perhaps it was her ghost that haunted Myra's dreams at night…

It had been two weeks since Robb had left when Myra finally asked if Bran would go for a walk to the roots of the hills with her. Bran held an incredible amount of knowledge about the geography and history surrounding Winterfell. He had allowed her to carry him throughout and around the castle, for as long as she could. Winterfell as fortress was enormous, and it was only over the span of days that Myra, Bran, sometimes Rickon, and their wolves could see most of it. His tours were far more informative than Rickon's anecdote filled ones.

Bran showed her the door on the outer East wall of the fortress, where men from the Night's Watch replenished there supplies and collected spare or used furs. He showed her where the Kings of the North once sat and the hidden cupboard in his father's study where the brass crowns were housed. He told her of the winter town, which was only ever filled when the many people in around WInterfell had to draw into close quarters because of the harsher existence winter brought with it. The boy showed her one of the many tunnels under the fortress, he described the natural hot springs existing under Winterfell and the pipes that Bran the Builder had laid into the walls so that the hot water could run through them in order to keep the castle warm.

With this Myra did not doubt that Bran would know the area Robb would have spotted burning in the woods from the young boy's bedroom window that night. Rickon had whined, wanting to come along, but as he had refused to cut his hair for a number of months both he and Shaggydog were ordered sternly by Maester Luwin to stay within the walls of WInterfell.

Maester Luwin had suggested that they take some of the household guard as Osha was proof that the land outside WInterfell was dangerous. Osha no longer seemed to be threat to anyone, her shackles had been removed, but the old Maester's fear was not unfounded. However, Myra was able to convince him that Silver and Summer would be more than enough protection from harm. And it was true the wolves, and the boys for that matter, had appeared to have undergone a sudden growth spurt in the past weeks.

Summer and Silver had grown to be about the same size with bodies now tall enough to reach the height of Myra's thigh, though Silver was a hint more muscular and faster. Shaggydog appeared to have gone on his own trajectory, though he had grown and was the same age as Summer, the black wolf was stocky and short but held true power in his relatively small form and had the ferocity to match. Considering their changes Myra thought it was more likely that they had been growing slowly, steadily, and she had only just noticed the change now.

Bran would have to ride his horse, Egon, to make the journey and he had insisted on Myra riding one as well, which terrified her. She had seen Bran's horse before, and her mother had spoken of riding one before, but Myra had never sat on one herself. "Come Myra! Don't be a baby…" Bran had teased her, offering to lead the black horse she had been given, Meeran, on a rope. Myra had scoffed and climbed on to the horse.

It took a moment of adjusting to the slightly uncomfortable strain on her legs and the height. She nearly yelped when the horse began moving under her to follow Bran out of the courtyard. In her head Myra prayed to the gods with each step and slip Meeran made. Eventually, Myra let herself breath, once she realized that Meeran knew how to walk and what he doing. She grinned triumphantly at Bran who had already broken into the bread and cheese that Maester Luwin had packed in his saddlebag for their trip.

They had gotten so lost in conversation, Myra could not believe how fast they had reached the foot of the hills passing from the relatively green lands into the snow covered ranges where she had once lived. Even if they had not been on horseback she was sure that the journey could not be very long on foot, perhaps two hours walking quickly and with direction. No wonder her mother discouraged her from taking long walks. The trees she had climbed as a child would never have been tall enough to see WInterfell either, but the fact that the fortress, that Robb and the Starks had been so close for all of her life hit her like a sack of bricks to the gut.

They reached a pile of windswept snow. Myra only stopped Bran when she saw a burnt log under some snow, too finely chopped to have fallen naturally. "Oh gods" sore legs and all Myra dismounted Meeran as fast as she could. There was nothing left. "Oh mother," Myra's violet eyes filled with tears, as she tugged Robb's cloak closer to her chest. She felt Silver's body press against her right leg. She did not recognize anything "I'm sorry."

"I am too." She heard Bran's soft voice and she felt a little less cold.

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><p>It was near the end of the forth week since Robb had gone south. Myra had decided to go tramping through the woods surrounding Winterfell with Sliver, as much Myra enjoyed the company of the younger Starks and Maester Luwin there were times she missed the relaxation solitude allowed her. Though this was not to say that she welcomed the worrying that filled her mind with thoughts of a bloodied and broken Robb… which was why she had brought her bow and quiver of arrows along. Hopefully she would get to hunt something or pretend to hunt something which would use up some of her thinking time and energies.<p>

It was becoming quite late and Myra was considering turning back when Silver tensed at Myra's side, looking in the direction of a dense patch of trees, Myra knocked an arrow in her bow. She heard the distinct sound of a human grunting as they made their way through the forest. Myra did not lower her bow. She had been warned of the many dangers in these woods by Maester Luwin more than enough.

Osha came stepping out of the growth, as surprised to see Myra as Myra was to see her.

"M'lady…" Osha spoke, approaching Myra as the girl lowered her bow and took a deep breath. Silver snarled when Osha got to close for her liking, Myra looked down at her violet-eyed wolf.

"Relax Silver, you remember Osha…" Myra turned her gaze back to the Wilding girl. Her hair had been tamed, she had bathed and her clothes had been washed. She looked much younger and less fearsome to Myra now. "You don't have to call me 'my lady' Osha. Myra is fine…what are you doing out here?"

"Oh well" Osha gestured generally to the darkening woods. "You know I like the wild, those halls get a bit stuffy after a while…how 'bout you?" She began heading in the direction of WInterfell, Myra joined her.

"I feel the same too" she smiled at the girl, something suddenly occurred to Myra "Hold on a second! If you are allowed out of Winterfell, why do you not run away?" Myra asked.

Osha scoffed as she stepped over fallen branch "Have that much faith in me do ya' ?"

Myra shook her head, stepping over the same branch "I am sorry. I did not mean it in that way… I just meant, do you not miss your home? Your family?"

The Wildling girl simply laughed, seeming to assess Myra by her look, finally she shook her head "Nah. They're nicer here than they ever were over there. Plus the little lords have grown on me some" she smiled, though her teeth were dirty, she still had a very pretty smile. "Reckon you'd know some about that…"

Myra returned her smile. "Yes, they are amazing boys…"

"And men…" Osha added meaningfully.

Myra felt her cheek warm up glad that they were now in the dark. "What do you mean?" She asked though she could guess what Osha had been implying.

"Reckon you'd know about that as well Myra…" she chuckled, as Winterfell came into view in the distance through the trees.

Myra opened her mouth to respond to Osha but was cut off by the sound of yelling. Osha must have heard it as well because she sprinted with Myra to see what was happening at Winterfell. All Myra could think of were Bran and Rickon, what Robb would do without them... Osha had to grab her around the waist to stop Myra from running out of the cover of the woods into plain view.

Myra calmed herself a little, and caught her breath. Osha, she and Silver crouched, in the bushes trying to figure out what was happening to their home. There were troops of men walking through the North gate of WInterfell, once Myra caught a glimpse of the banners that the men were carrying she gasped.

"Those banners…a kraken is embroidered on them" she whispered turning Osha, whose face had lined with confusion. "It is the sigil of the Iron Islands…"

"The Iron Islands?" Osha frowned "The place that annoying one is from?"

"Yes" Myra nodded "The annoying and proud and stupid one…" Myra gritted out, mentally slamming Theon's face into a wall. Though maybe Theon had nothing to do with this and the lords of the Iron Islands had simply acted on their own. Myra did not really care about incentive for the attack, thinking primarily of Bran and Rickon and Maester Luwin trapped in the castle. She had to get them out, then what? It did not matter first they had to get them out. A plan began to form in her mind.

"Osha," she gripped the girl's arm. "Do remember those covered wagons Maester Luwin had moved to behind the stables to make space when the banners gathered here weeks ago?" Osha face pinched in further confusion "Near where that door in the East wall is?" Myra tried.

"Oh!" Osha nodded "Why?"

"We have to pull one of those along the trail to that door than you have to go in grab as many of the furs, and as much food and water as you can…"

"What about you?"

"I am going to find the children and Maester Luwin, while you are doing that…"

"But what about horses? What if the army is…"

"I thought of that too. And I cannot see a reason for them having to use that road and entrance, they are entering quite freely thorough the main gate…come on enough talking, you said you cared for the boys. Every second we waste here is another they are in danger. We will sort it out as we go long. Please we must hurry" the desperation to get moving in her voice, was even scaring Myra herself. Osha nodded and they began tracing the edge of the forest to the behind the stables, as hastily and stealthily as they could.

Myra thanked the gods. Upon meeting no resistance from the meager forces stationed in Winterfell, the Iron Island troops seemed preoccupied with raiding the fore part of the castle. With some difficulty and the aid of Silver the women pulled a covered wagon up the poorly maintained trail towards the door in the East wall, turning it to face South.

As she made to leave Myra turned back to Osha and spoke hurriedly "Get some brooms as well. If we tie them properly to the back of the wagon we can cover our trail some…"

The sound of wailing carried down towards them through the Hunter's Gate, further up the East wall. "Rickon!" Myra gasped. She did not have to turn to know that both Silver and Osha were at her heels. Myra slowed as she reached the gate, knocking an arrow into her bow again, she held it out before her body, aiming, her as she walked carefully through the gate.

"You killed him!" she could hear Rickon cry and Shaggydog growl. Myra's heart jumped into her throat. Killed who? Not Bran! Not Bran! She repeated to herself.

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><p><strong>Hi, so this is one half of a chapter that was very long. Sorry for cutting it off there but was getting ridiculous. Decided to (try to) update on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, starting tomorrow with the second half of this chapter. Will do my best but, definitely no more Tuesdays and Thursdays after this...<strong>


	10. Chapter 10: Travel Tense

**So this chapter was really long, thought about splitting it up, kept changing my mind but obviously it did happen.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten – Travel Tense<strong>

"_You killed him!" she could hear Rickon cry and Shaggydog growl. Myra's heart jumped into her throat. Killed who? He could not mean Bran…_

She could see Rickon standing in front of the kennels, with Shaggydog hunched in a crouch next to him and in front of the boy lay Summer's lifeless body. Oh gods! Myra finally stepped out of the dark arch of the gate. Training her arrow on the somewhat unexpected sight before her.

Theon had his left hand gripped around Bran's throat, with a blade digging into the boy's skin there. As far as Myra could tell, Theon was the only man from the Iron Islands who had thought to check this relatively obscure exit. The Maester's turret stood just above, Maester Luwin must have been trying to sneak the boy's out.

"Greyjoy, what are you doing?" Myra asked.

"Ah, was wondering where you were…" His once humourous smile now caused Myra's skin to crawl.

"Myra…" Bran wheezed.

Rickon turned "Myra!" he exclaimed, running towards her to wrap his arms around her leg in relief.

"Hello, little pup…" she greeted, her eyes not leaving Theon and Bran for a moment. "I need you to do me favour, ok?" she felt his head nod against her leg. Speaking loud enough so that Osha could hear her "I need you to help Osha, brace Summer's weight on Shaggydog and Silver's backs. Then I need you to go with her…"

"But…" Rickon started to argue. She heard Silver growl in protest.

"Do as I say little pup. Osha, Silver…" they began to do as she instructed, lifting Summer so that he lay with his forelegs and hind legs over either sided of the two wolves who walked with some strain side by side.

"Yes go ahead," Theon seemed on the verge of laughing "See how far you get…"

"Myr…" Rickon voice piped up again.

"Osha, pick him up and go do as I asked…" Myra ordered. She heard a huff as Osha pried away then picked up Rickon and left back out of the gate, though the boy resisted.

"Well then?" Theon asked, sounding somewhat amused. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"That depends…"

"Interesting. On what exactly?"

"On you letting Bran go."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you would like to hold at least some honour in your lifetime…"

Theon's entertained face transformed into a scowling one "This is me having honour" he dug the blade deeper into the skin of Bran's neck.

"Oh yes. Invading the homes of scared children in the middle of the night, while their lord and armies are at war… while the man you called brother is at war, no less, for the sake of a man who treated you as a son… here you are threatening the very boy you saved from this very position only a few months ago…how is this honourable?"

"Shut up!" Theon spat "You do not know what you are talking about. My father will reward me for this victory, Robb Stark and his foolish men will die on the fields of Riverrun. There is a new lord of Winterfell. I am jus-" He did not get to finish that sentence, Myra had released the arrow, which had flown over Bran's right shoulder, embedding itself deeply between where Theon's right arm connected with the rest of his body. He dropped the knife, falling backwards on to the ground at the impact of her shot. Bran fell too, causing Theon to be winded by the weight of the boy. "Argh! You bitch!" Bran elbowed Theon in the ribs, from his position atop the man. "Ah!"

Before Theon could move to stand, Myra was standing above him, with another arrow in her bow, pointed directly between his eyes. "Move an inch Greyjoy and you will see how much better my aim is from close up."

Terror filled Theon's hazel eyes "You wouldn…"

"Would I not?" Myra questioned harshly "You threaten the lives of people I love, and have invaded our home…" Theon's eyes filled with even more fear "but you are right it is not my place to decide, it is Bran issue as lord while Robb is away… What do you say Bran?" her gaze stayed on Theon, though Greyjoy's hazel eyes flitted down to look at the boy's head.

"Bran, please…" Theon pleaded pitiful.

Bran seemed to contemplate for a moment before speaking. "Let him live."

"Thank you, thank you…"

"Be quiet!" Bran spoke clearly disgusted by Theon. "This is not as a favour to you, I just do not want to kill anyone…"

"Thank y…" Theon did not finish once again as Myra hit with the bottom nock of her bow, then put her unused arrow back in her quiver.

Bran looked up at her with an odd expression on his face. "I am proud of you Bran, I was not ready to kill anyone today either."

"What are you still doing here?" a panicked voice asked from above them.

Myra looked up to see Maester Luwin, looking worriedly down from the Maester's turret. "Come with us…" Bran called as loudly as he dared, to the older man, as Myra picked the boy off of the Greyjoy's unconscious form.

"No dear boy. I will hold them at bay for as long as I can, do not worry they would not dare harm a Maester…" Myra could tell by his tone that he was lying. "Go!" he breathed.

"Thank you" she spoke genuinely grateful for everything the Maester had done, smiling briefly at the kindly grey-haired man, before hurrying out of the gate.

Myra swore as she rushed out of the gate that sounds of siege were even more frightening from outside of the castle walls than inside them. What she was imagining to make enough noise to reach them outside of the fortress terrified her. She let out a breath she had not known she had been holding when she saw that the wagon was still there, and Osha was tying the brooms to the back of it with some expertise, no doubt from beyond the Wall. Rickon poked his head out of the back flap of the wagon, "Bran! Myra!"

"Little pup!" Myra said breathlessly moving past Osha, who busily grunted in greeting. She heaved Bran and her bow into the wagon next to Rickon and Summer. There was easily enough salted meat, preserved fruit and casks of water to last them a nearly month at the most if they were careful, she was more than impressed by how quickly the other girl had worked. The furs left for the Night's Watch had also been piled into the wagon.

"Climb in," Osha ordered, still outside.

"But…"

"Just climb in Myra!" Osha commanded impatiently.

Myra squeezed in next to Bran, who looked sadly at Summer's, limp form. The wagon suddenly began moving, Myra looked around in shock but supposed it could wait when Bran spoke "He shot him with something…" he whispered, pointed at the 'something' that appeared to be a dart sticking in Summer's right foreleg.

If it was poisoned no more harm could be done to Summer, she could at least deduce what it was. She lifted the dart out of Summer's leg, sniffing it. It smelt of Dewney berries, Myra knew them well, her mother would tell to collect but not eat these berries. They were not deadly, but worked as an extremely potent anesthetic. She wondered why Theon would want to shoot Summer with it. Unless it was meant for the boys. She shivered at the thought of what fate had awaited the children had they been taken alive.

She looked at Bran and smiled. "He is not dead he is only asleep…"

"Are you sure?" Bran asked staring down at Summer.

Myra nodded. Now looking at Rickon "Where are Silver and Shaggydog? Where did the horses come from?"

"They came from the three bad men…Shaggydog and Silver, knocked them off of their horses, and Osha sent the spare horse running into the woods."

"Oh!" Myra glanced toward the front flaps of the wagon, even more impressed by Osha. "And Silver and Shaggydog?"

Rickon frowned as though it was the most obvious thing in the world "Shaggydog is following us through the forest…can't you feel Silver?"

Myra took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders and closing her eyes. "Yes, yes I can." And she was surprised to find that she really could.

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><p>Once they were a fair distance South of Winterfell, Osha peeked her head back into the wagon "So where to?"<p>

Bran and Rickon had both fallen asleep against the fur in the back of the wagon. Myra placed a finger over her lips and moved to sit next to Osha outside "We go towards Riverrun, using no main roads we will cut across as much land as far East as we can…we have to get to Robb…" Myra sniffed at the collar of her cloak.

"How far is Riverrun?"

"About a week and a half away if we have luck on our side…"

"Let's hope we do then…"

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><p>They had been traveling for almost two weeks now, Myra could barely sleep or eat. Though Osha offered the violet-eyed girl food and gave her as much time to sleep as Myra gave her. Myra felt too anxious to do anything other than focus on the road, on getting to Robb and keeping the children safe. Carrying Bran to nearby by forest growth in order for him relieve himself became Myra's task, which was partially because he was most comfortable with her and also because they were able to finish the task quickly. Myra could not make herself calm, the fear of being followed gnawed at her constantly. The healthy wolves offered protection by patrolling close by as the wagon crossed the terrain, only a week before Shaggydog had appeared with a bloody torn piece of cloth from an Iron Island soldier's uniform between his teeth.<p>

Summer had regained his full strength by the time they had come to a river, to which the only true crossing lay west at the Twins, according to Bran. They had begun travelling west until Myra spotted relatively shallow and narrow part of the river, Osha and Myra spent an entire day and part of an evening with their skirts pulled up around their thighs, easing the wagon slowly across the river. The wagon had been moving with less effort since the Summer's weight was no longer added to the bodies it carried.

Rickon cheered when they that made it. On their journey Osha entertained the rest of them with stories from beyond the Wall. She spoke of the Whitewalkers and a cold Wildling leader, named Mance Rayder and of how Benjen Stark of the Night's Watch was a familiar person to her. She talked of skin-changers or Wargs. People who became so closely bonded to some animals that they were able to see through their eyes, even live in their bodies and gain a certain degree of foresight. She said that she had seen it happen first hand, and that it would undoubtedly happen with the Northern wolves and kids, and that when it did they all had to be careful to not to give into the beast urges that skin-changing awakened within people.

It did not take Osha long to convince Rickon that her stories were true. Bran took a little longer and Myra had yet to be entirely persuaded. As they neared the Riverlands, Myra had almost stopped sleeping all together, even the horses got more rest in a day than she seemed to. She would give her portions of the dwindling food to the rest of them. Osha had often told Myra she would be of no use to anyone if she was half dead, to which Myra would respond to lamely with the fact that she could not help what was happening to her.

She had to keep going. It was another night upon which Myra had forgotten to wake Osha to take her shift driving the wagon. Myra blinked, one second seeing the starry sky and the crest of a grassy hill before her, to seeing a blurrily vision of a series of tents. She could smell food cooking and hear fuzzy voices speaking. Myra purposely blinked a few times, thinking that the lack of sleep was finally getting to her. She felt a sudden wave of tiredness slam against her, as her vision blurred out into black, she thought she heard a calm sound become crystal clear.

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><p><strong>So starting next week updates Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Hopefully not gonna break down mid-semester.<strong>


	11. Chapter 11: Sleep

**Back again. Hope everything is going well for everyone!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven – Sleep<strong>

Myra was becoming tired of waking up in unfamiliar places, though she did feel consistently comfortable each time that she did. And this place did not feel wholly unfamiliar it felt like being held in a safe place in the dark. Once she had opened her eyes it took her a few seconds to put together that she was in a tent made apparent by the dim the glow of a lamp's candle light.

"Oh, my little dragon" she heard a voice that warmed her down to her toes murmur against her ear. Her violet eyes closed as if by force at the sound of that voice, that voice which could only belong to a certain lord of Winterfell.

"Robb" Myra exhaled, half scared that if she spoke any louder she would wake herself up from what could very well be a dream.

"You had better wake up now little dragon..." his voice thrummed in her ear.

"This is a dream…" she barely moved her lips.

"I sincerely hope not" Myra felt his lips pull into a smile against the shell of her ear. She moved faster than she knew she was capable of doing, her arms were around his neck and her legs wrapped around as much of him they could. Myra felt as though she had taken in fresh air again after nearly a month of holding her breath. She felt free as his arms held her to him.

Myra stiffened as her thoughts caught up with her. "Bran! Rickon!... Silver! Osha!" She used all of her strength to try to pull away from him, but was not able to get far without his cooperation. "Gods Robb! Let me go!"

He released his hold on her waist, stating calmly "They are fine…" which stopped her in the middle of her mad scramble to climb of off the makeshift bed that was barely large enough for the both of them. "Probably asleep, as it is the middle of the night… and Silver's with Grey Wind on the ground…"

"Oh" Myra spotted the two large dire wolf forms lying with each other on the floor of the tent and turned where she sat on the bed to look at him. As her violet eyes took him in properly, his soft grey ones filled with wonder and were trained on her.

He looked different. He was still Robb but even laying down it was apparent that he had grown, his shoulders were broader, his face was a little bit hardened, he had more scruff on his chin, his dark hair had grown to show some more of the curl in it, fighting had given him a tougher jaw. But in his grey eyes, Myra could still see her Robb. Under the warring and fighting and dying. Her Robb who had lived his life in the North. Whose boyhood home was being, had been, decimated while she had stood by and done nothing. An overwhelming flood of sadness and guilt crush her as she stared at the grey-eyed man beside her.

"Robb, I am so sorry…" her head fell to look at her lap, drawing a curtain of her silver-gold hair between them. There was an odd silence hanging in the air now, so Myra tried to continue in her apology "Winterfell is…"

She did not get to finish, Robb had pulled her back towards him to lie on the bed again. He held Myra in place by pinning her with his own body slightly over hers. She thought that he would say something first, but instead found that he had chosen to bury his nose into the juncture of her right shoulder and neck. Myra was at a true loss for word, she felt as though her brain had forgotten how to create sentences.

"Silly dragon" she felt the skin at her throat tug at the pull of his lips as he spoke. He took in a deep inhale, before lifting his head just above hers in order to peer into her violet eyes. "What is Winterfell to me? My house and inheritance? Bran and Rickon are my family. My home is nothing without them and…without you." She had not expected that to be the end of his statement. She felt sure, now more than ever that her tongue would never remember how to form words. He must have seen the bewilderment burning in her eyes.

"I feel Myra that you are important to…me. You saved my brothers, but it is not only that…from the very moment I held you I felt as though I could happily hold you forever, then when you spoke and I heard you thoughts I felt as though I could speak with you from then 'til the end of days. It should make no sense, but it just makes the most sense out of everything in the world to me. I want you to…" Robb stopped all of a sudden. His intense grey eyes had not moved from her stunned ones, she was glad to be lying down because even as she rested Myra could feel the strength leaving her knees when he spoke.

"What do you want of me, Robb?" Myra scarcely whispered, surprised that she had found sense enough to recall how to speak.

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he dipped his head to press his nose with less force than before, against her neck. "I want you…" she shivered when his hot breath feathered over her skin as he spoke with his soothing voice "…little dragon, to want to be happy" his nose gently began trailing down her neck towards her shoulder "as much as I want you to be. I want you to want me to make you happy, as much I want to make you so incredibly happy." She felt the tip of his nose begin to graze against her collar bone. Her knees felt impossibly weaker "I want you to want me in your life as much as I want you in mine."

Myra felt a heat flush through her, as his breath ghosted the line of her shoulder. He moved his body over hers more, so that one of his knees rested between her legs, where the warmth Myra felt seemed to be building and something pressed against her thigh. "I want you to need me in your life, as much as I need you."

She felt him press a little more against her leg, as he traced his nose back up her shoulder. "I want you to want to grow old with me, have screaming kids with me, have fights with me, have a real life with me as much as I want to with you." Myra was no longer sure if she was breathing, her heart appeared to have stopped beating in her chest. His scorching breath fanned across her neck once again. "I want you to marry me, as much as I want to marry you." He placed the softest kisses against her throat, before raising his head "I want you to come to love me, as much as I do you."

"I do." She spoke before the words could even fully run through her mind, before Robb's face was even clearly over hers. His grey eyes snapped to focus on her. Myra took in a shaky breath, all at once it seemed her heartbeat had returned, beating at least twice as fast as it used to "I do" she repeated.

A spark of recognition lit in his eyes, slowly morphing his war worn and stubble covered face into one of pure youthful joy. Myra had no explanation as to why, but looking up at Robb's smiling face she found herself without warning taken over by a fit of laughter. She felt so happy she could not control herself. Soon enough Robb was shaking with his own blissful laughter as well.

Myra caught her breath and pulled herself together as she took in the man still hovering above her. Her violet eyes expressed the disbelief she was beginning to notice within herself. "This has to be a dream…" she offered as some nearly inaudible consolation for herself.

Robb immediately halted in trying to catch his breath properly. His countenance became serious, as his stormy grey eyes briefly scanned her face. Before Myra knew what was happening Robb was crushing his mouth against hers. Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth gaped open allowing him freedom to twist and slant and delve his tongue hungrily inside of her mouth. Myra felt her alarm quickly fade away, as his devouring kiss filled her with a tingling fire she was not entirely familiar with.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him and brutishly delicious taste closer. Her mind seemed to slip away as her eyes closed and her body and mouth began responding to Robb's own. A deep groan came from down in his throat, and he pressed his hardened body into her soft one. In response a low moan from her escaped through her parted lips into his mouth.

Hesitantly, he drew his mouth away from her leaving a series of softer, breathless, tender kisses as he went. She missed him instantly but found it hard to protest when he started dragging his lips down her neck, she felt her hips move as if on their own accord. Digging his arms under her laying body so that they wrapped around the concaves of her waist as he spoke "This is not a dream… his voice was low and husky, his hot breath seemed to fuel the passion already boiling inside of her. "…this is real…" she felt Robb's lick the skin of her throat. "No one will ever take you…" unwinding one his arms from her waist to brace himself as he lifted his head to place a soft kiss on her lips "…take this…" he kissed her again "…away from me."

Myra's eyes opened to meet Robb's fierce gaze, she knew he meant it. She felt the raging flames reach a steady quell within her now. Myra had a feeling that the blaze he had awoken inside of her would never truly disappear, she knew she would always be warmed if only just by the thought of him.

Robb carried on speaking "You have no idea how…" he shook his head a little "terrified I was. I thought I would never get to hear your voice again or see you or my family again. When I think of what would have happened to you if you were captured…" his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, as his grip around her waist tightened.

"Hey…" she raised a hand to stroke away the lines of tension building on his face. "Robb Stark, I told you that you would not be rid of me so easy" she smiled up at him, as he seemed to relax a bit. "I do not want anyone to take you from me either," Myra stated, unable to stop herself.

"Do not worry yourself," he chuckled "I will never leave you alone. I would imagine you will become rather annoyed with my constant presence."

"Never…hmm" she paused, pretending to contemplate something "…all right maybe on occasion."

"And the truth comes out!" Robb joked.

"Well I am only human…" she teased. Myra could not seem to peg down a steady emotion to hold on to and found that her look changed from one of playfulness to one filled with affection, "…and I will be yours so long as your mine…maybe even if…" she was cut off, by another kiss. Though it was not as demanding as the one he gave her earlier, it still made her spine turn to mush and caused her eyes to flutter shut. Robb broke their kiss to roll them both over so that he was now on his back with her lying partially on top of his body, with one of her legs curled over both of his.

"There's no 'if' you are mine and I am yours. Simple…" He dragged her body up his, Myra felt the sensitive area between her legs ache as the movement caused the place to be brushed up against his thigh. She wanted to blush, and was glad he could not really see her face. She knew the mechanisms of baby making, as her mother had explained the technicalities when Myra asked her where people came from. However, the girl was not prepared for the other feelings that seemed to occur so naturally and that were stirring inside of her.

"Simple…" she mumbled against the shoulder she was laying her head on, her eyes had become transfixed on that slightly more stubbly yet all too familiar portion of neck she had want to lick so badly some weeks ago.

And she could claim now. 'Mine.' She thought to herself. Robb had said so himself. Coming to grips with the slew of unanticipated emotions, Myra was about shift forward, when Robb pulled her further over his body, by himself. Her mouth was less than a hair's breadth away from his throat, but she was distracted by the man's right hand. Robb had dug his fingers into her silver-gold tresses and had proceeded to bunch the locks up to his face. He sighed as he held her hair up to his face, keeping it there, all Myra could see above her now was a pile of her own hair and the bottom of Robb's chin.

"I still have what you gave me" he mumbled, referring to the lock of hair she had given him as a token of caring before he had left Winterfell. "But the actual you so much more…" he fished for the right word "…just more." Myra smiled to herself and felt him settle under her ready for rest, but her mind would not let her follow him towards sleep.

"Robb…"

"Mmmm" his chest rumbled under the hand she had place on it.

"I really do love you."

He pulled her further up his body "Say it again" he muttered through her hair.

Myra felt a pain in her cheeks, as she smiled "I love you Robb."

"I love you too Myra." He spoke sounding more awake.

Myra felt as though a cool wave had crashed into her body, only to settle into a peaceful calm. She understood now why he asked her to repeat it. "Again" she sighed.

"I love you Myra."

Though she was lulled into a daze by his words Myra still felt a small stab of worry that would not let her rest. "And…and we will sort out the rest tomorrow?"

His hold on her waist tensed up, she was practically completely on top of him now. "There is nothing to sort out. I told you I love you, I will tell you every day that I live. I won't let you be without me."

Myra found herself smiling once again, taking childish delight in his words. She uttered one word before sleep finally took her. "Good."

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><p><strong>Something happened in this chapter! Finally…sheesh… :P<strong>


	12. Chapter 12: Fears and Blood

**Spring is coming! Allergies and sun, so boo and yay!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve – Fears and Blood<strong>

Myra woke up to the sound of a busy camp. The lamp had burnt out. She expected to find Robb already gone, but was surprised to realize he had not moved since last night and had slept well into the day. Myra let herself relax a little against him for a while, as the evening's events washed over her. Over the course of a few months she had found a new history, a new family, a new home and a man she felt she could not live without. When she lived with her mother, though she had secretly hoped for a life with a man and friends and children and kissing Myra had resigned herself to believing that such a future would never happen for her. All of her secret hopes were buried so far inside of her that for, the most part, Myra forgot that they were even there. It all seemed to have happened so fast, yet she could not imagine waiting any longer. In her heart Myra just felt that everything fit, with her body wrapped around him now she was certain of the truth of that feeling.

She allowed her eyes to roll back only to see her silver-gold hair bunched in a mess past the line of his chin. Myra thought of what to say to wake him up, when her eyes landed on his neck so temptingly close to her mouth. She grinned to herself, before planting a wet opened mouth kiss on his rough skin there. He groaned when she nipped his skin gently before pulling away. Robb held his grip on her waist, and rolled over so he was bracing himself over her.

"Good morning?" she offered timidly. The mischievous look on his face made her anxious.

"Good morning," he smiled. He started to lower his face to kiss her mouth but she spoke up.

"Robb, wait…"

"What is it? Do you not want a proper good morning?" he asked with a wicked smirk.

"No," she said honestly "it isn't that. I just don't want you to get…sidetracked and be even more late than you already are…" Robb did not appear to be discouraged so she added "and um, bad breath?"

She was about to offer that she had sleep-sand in her eye as a better reason, when he scoffed. "Don't care…Just one is all I want" his smile widened as he moved his face closer to hers. "Numbers change often though…" his lips brushed against hers, his eyes closed and became less tense. Myra hardly believed she done it, but she slipped out of the cage of his arms so quickly that Robb pursed lips hit the mattress and she was able to laugh at the scene from the middle of the tent. Silver had gotten up to come stand by Myra, the wolf had grown large over the course of the journey with Summer, while Shaggydog continued to grow on his own track. In any case the top of Silver's body reached the height of Myra's waist, and she was entertained by watching the action play out along with Grey Wind, who was still lying on the floor.

As soon as he had realized what had happened Robb sat up with a look on his face somewhere between scowling and amusement. "Aw, poor Lord Stark…" she pretended to empathize, and on some level she did, she would have loved lying in bed with him all day but alas he was 'Lord Stark' with responsibilities and all.

"You think yourself very clever do you not?"

"Well, not more clever than all, but certainly much more clever than some" she stared pointedly at him.

His grey eyes glinted in a predatory way that she had not seen in before him, she felt her heartbeat quicken and the exhilaration she felt was not wholly frightening. In fact she felt excited.

"You shouldn't have said that" his voice was low but he wore a smile. Robb moved quickly however she was faster. At first she was able to dodge him around the tent, but his limbs were longer allowing him to catch her in the end. He grabbed her around the waist, yanking her towards him so that her back to press against his chest.

Between the running and laughing she was short of breath. She spoke as her breathing steadied "I won't be the reason for you not…" Myra lost her train of thought as she felt his fingers span against the flat span of her stomach, and he bent his neck to press his lips against her left shoulder. "I do believe you have an army to lead out there…" she tried. But it was difficult as Myra suddenly became very aware of how much taller and larger he seemed to be from this upright perspective.

"I do?" he mumbled, the stubble on his face scratching against her bare skin. She nodded halfheartedly, feeling her eyes becoming heavy at his attentions. "Mmm" his nose ran against her shoulder "you bit me…"

"Only a litt…ah!" she felt his teeth gently pinch at the skin he had been focusing on. Her legs went somewhat numb.

"There" he muttered as he lay a soft kiss against the area he had abused, and she felt what little pain there may have been there melt away.

"You bit me" was all her still startled brain could muster out of her mouth in response, as she turned her head to look at him.

"Yes, now about that kiss…" his grey eyes darted across her face to focus in her lips.

"No way Robb Stark!" she craned head as far away from his as she could while enclosed in his arms. She knew she was being stubborn and silly now, if she just gave in he would probably already have left. Maybe that was a part of the reason she was not letting him win… maybe… "You bite me then expect me to kiss you?"

"I don't expect. I know you will." Robb declared haughtily.

"Oh yes? How do you figure that?"

He pulled her back, leaning forward himself to whisper in a raspy voice against her ear "I have my ways…"

"And wha-" his fingers had travelled to her sides and he began mercilessly tickling her. Myra felt the odd mix of pain and enjoyment at the amount of uncontrollably laughter escaping her, if Robb had not been holding her up she would have collapsed to the ground by now. Her eyes were beginning to water.

"Do you yield?" he let her catch her breath and compose herself.

"Never…"

"You brought this on yourself…" instead of continuing to tickle her, he spun her around and planted a kiss on her lips. Myra wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him and his soft mouth instinctively closer, when they broke apart they leaned their foreheads against one another to catch their breath.

"Thief…" she teased through her kiss swollen lips.

"I'll be sure to repay my debt" he grinned down at her, with that glint in his eye again.

"I am sure you will," Myra rolled her eyes "You had better get going," she nodded towards the flap past his shoulder that clearly led out of the tent.

"That will be rather tasking especially with you still holding me…" Robb laughed portentously.

"Oh!" she let go of him and took in his smug manner "Oh! Go put on proper clothes. I dislike the sound of sniggering…"

"Of course, my lady." He mocked a small bow to her, Robb simply went to the desk within the tent and picked up a worn heavy jacket putting it on over the undershirt and pants he had worn to bed. Pulling a fur collared cloak over his shoulders, he strapped his sword around his hips, pulled on his boots and smiled at her "Done. Am I free to snigger now?"

"Really Robb, don't your men need you?" she asked.

Sensing she was serious, he answered her properly "No, we won quite a victory against the Lannisters yesterday, we freed Riverrun. That is probably why no one has come for me. Together with the fact that we actually captured the bastard at the Whispering Wood…" Myra face creased with confusion "Jaime Lannister" he explained. "The men are in good spirits about the battles…" he ran his hand wearily back through his dark hair.

"And you are not?" She moved to stand in front of him, Myra took one of his hands in hers. She grazed her thumb over his battle torn knuckles. She wondered about where else he could be hurt and how badly. What could she not see?

"I knowingly sent two thousand men under Lord Bolton to their deaths, a part of my family is still trapped at King's Landing, the North is still at the feet of the South, and worst of all I put you in danger at Winterfell," Myra's violet eyes showed her failure to grasp how the last thing he had listed, or even how any of what he had listed at all, was his fault.

"Robb it was n..."

He shook his head, raising the hand that she was not holding to caress her cheek "I sent Theon to broker an alliance with his father, though numbers that I had hoped would have come from the Greyjoys, ended up coming from the Freys…" something ticked in Robb's jaw. But Robb ignored her furrowed brow this time a powered on "if I had not sent Theon, then his father may have stayed where he was…" the steel in his grey eyes seemed to drain out, as he dropped his fingers to her shoulder, where his teeth had been earlier "I may not have had to mourn you. I felt as though I had half lost my mind, it had been bad before, but the world without you just…" He brought Myra towards his body, tugging her into a tender hug. As she inhaled the dirty and grimy scent of him she felt immediately safe, the smell was still him.

"When Silver showed up I let myself finally hope that you were safe, all of you…" his cheek pressed against the crown of her head, his grip grew much more forceful around her body "I swore to return the Greyjoy's favour for the dead that he had left, once those who were still living were returned and the Lannisters were finished. I thought Silver might have been alone for a moment, but then saw the wagon cresting the hill just in the distance, and you collapsed not really guiding it. I did not know whether to be more grateful or horrified in that moment. Osha told me of what you did at Winterfell and said that you had not really slept or eaten for days, sparing food for the boys… your pain it killed me, it kills me and it would not have happened if I had not…"

"Please stop it, Robb" she tighten her own hold on him, Myra thought she could feel his steady heartbeat giving her strength, calming her through his chest "you are making me sound like a martyr, I did not sleep or eat much, simply because my body did not seem to allow it…" she took in a breath "those lost lives are the harsh and horrible price of war," she felt him tense "we can only hope those men are at peace, that they were able to know love and happiness in their lives while they were here."

She paused trying to figure out to phrase the next, his form felt less tense, so she continued "as for the Greyjoy attack you do not know what would have happened, I got the distinct impression from Theon that his father had sent him to begin taking over the North, they would have gotten to Winterfell eventually without the armies there to protect it…maybe more people would have had warning, but all the same Theon seemed intent on impressing his father…you," she rested her chin against his chest, to look up at him "Robb Stark, are not to blame for Theon's foolishness…"

"And what about your body's foolishness?" smiled, clearly still burdened but more ready to let the subject alone.

"You…may have more grounds there, but the fault does not rest totally with you…I should have forced myself. If anything had happened I would have been as useful a sack of potatoes…" she berated herself.

Robb swooped down giving her yet another sweet soft kiss that caused her spine curdle. "You could never be a sack of potatoes" he muttered, with a slight chuckle, against her parted lips. As he drew back he spoke "How I will be able to shorten kisses with you, I do not know. I don't ever want to move away, you seem to suit me so well."

"You are not alone in that way. I do not know how you do it yourself…" she smiled "Shall we instate a rule. Something such as, we do not instigate a kiss if we have no more than only five seconds to spare…"

"Five seconds? That's a bit short isn't it?" he frowned.

"All right then. Would you rather just refrain from kissing me? Unless we will have time to do it properly…"

"And by that token you will have to learn self-control as well…" he eyed her with a deliberately overly suspicious glance.

"Me!" she exclaimed "You have a short memory…"

"So do you, you started it this morning if I remember right."

"I-…" she stopped mid-sentence, leaving her mouth to hang open.

"You need food, now that you've had rest. I will take you the stores." He stepped around her towards the exit, picking up his old black cloak off of the chair sitting in front of the table. It was the one Myra had taken as her own, that still smelt of him in the right places and now he held it out for her.

As Myra fastened the cloak around her shoulders and tugged on her dirty boots, Robb busied himself by poking his head out of the tent. If Myra had to guess, she would have said he was checking for something.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, concerned by his behaviour. There was no reason she could see for him to worry about her apparent Targaryen heritage, especially since the news would certainly have spread if not by Tyrion Lannister, then by the banners of Winterfell by this time.

He turned back to face "Of course" he smiled widely, she could partially feel his scorching grey eyes drink her in. She looked away, feeling hot under his blatant gaze, she scuffed her mud caked shoes against the ground. "Come along" Myra her shifted her focus back to Robb, who was holding his hand out to her.

He guided her out into an empty row of grass between a series of dark tents on a cloudy day. Sliver followed, soon after with Grey Wind. Myra was literally speechless when saw the male wolf actually standing. If she had thought Robb had grown, Grey Wind had undergone transformation. Much like his man, Grey Wind was still recognizable but made tough by battle. His head almost reached Myra's shoulder now, she looked down at Silver to make sure that her wolf had not changed all of a sudden. It was never more evident that all of their wolves appeared to have unique growth routes.

Myra held out her hand to Grey Wind, rubbing his head. "Hello Grey Wind" she moved closer she hugged her arms around the huge wolf's neck. "Sorry I did not greet you earlier. I missed you." she spoke into the wolf's pelt, and she honestly meant it, he had seemed to keep the nightmares away "… I don't think you will fit in my bed anymore" Myra resolved, stepping away from the massive grey wolf.

Robb looked at her pensively for a few seconds. Eventually stating "You had not been sleeping well…even before your journey."

"Wha-…" Myra was cut off as a banner man with a sigil of House Tully appeared out of one the gaps between the tents behind Robb.

"Lord Stark," Robb turned as the banner man apprehensively took a couple of paces towards them and their wolves, stopping a fair distance away "I was sent by Lord Tully to fetch you. There is a Raven from the Twins…"

Robb's brow knit with unease, "What was it concerning?"

"I do not know, my lord. Lord Tully did not read its message, though he said something about the ongoing problems with the Greyjoy's Northern invasion…" the banner man, seemed to remember himself straightening his posture he spoke again "but as I said Lord Tully is waiting for your presence."

"Yes, thank you. I will be right behind you." Robb spoke, clear that he wished for the banner man to leave, which the soldier sensed and proceeded to do.

Robb turned back and eyes moved to meet Myra's violet ones, "I have to go care of this, it actually maybe a blessing" he smiled as a sudden sense of relief relaxed his form. Myra nodded feeling a bit left in the dark. "I will explain it to you later, let me take you to the stores first…"

Myra shook her head. "No…I don't want to keep you. I would much rather see Bran and Rickon anyway, maybe they are hungry too. We will make it from there…just point me in their direction."

He stepped nearer to her, so she had to tilt her head back to look at him. Robb drew his lips into a gentle smile as he spoke "They are four tents behind you on the left, little dragon." She could almost taste his breath

"Five seconds my arse" she murmured, closing the gap between them. It was a loving kiss but for some reason their passions were stoked and they were panting when they finally pulled apart.

"We will have to figure this kissing business out. We are as bad as each other…"

"Agreed, later though" Robb decided.

Myra nodded, taken in their position "…you should probably consider letting me go…" she smirked at the reversed situation.

But he did not drop his arm from her hips, rather pulled her further into his body. He looked directly into her violet eyes "If I had it my way I would never let you go, Myra" she felt the familiar heat rush through her. He bent his head down to take a quick sniff at her neck, leaving a quick kiss at the skin there then moved away. Seeming to think faster would be easier, Robb called to his wolf after all of two pace "Come Grey Wind unless you wish to stay" the large wolf followed his man. As Robb began to walk away Myra spoke loud enough only for him to hear.

"Oh Lord Stark!"

He turned back to face her "Yes, little dragon."

She wanted to burst as she said the words "I love you." His grin looked about ready to crack his scruffy face.

"I love you too," he spoke loud enough for her ears.

Myra felt her bones melt a little, but she nodded instead of running to him like she wanted to she said "Bye then…"

"Until later little dragon," with that remark he walked away with Grey Wind.

Myra turned towards the tents behind her, she looked down at her violet-eyed wolf "You would tell me if this was a dream wouldn't you girl?" Silver's unchanged expression made Myra believe she should not count on it. "How else would he know about my sleep?"

Myra approached the tent Robb had specified, it sat two tents away from the end of this particular row of tents. A larger column of grass ran between the end of this row and where the row continued at the other side of the column. In the column, to the right of her row, Myra could see a long log of wood had been raised. Curious, she walked past the boys' tent and towards the larger span of grass. She stopped short of fully exposing herself, poking her head out beyond the edge of her row.

To her left she saw that the column of grass ran through rows upon, upon rows of tents. "Wow" she gaped. Myra heard the sound of content musical whistling, she turned her head right to follow the sound. Amongst more rows of tents her gaze fell to the bottom of the log, where a man with blonde hair and his hands behind his back sat tied to it. Seeing as he was in the middle of the camp in plain sight, Myra could tell that this prisoner was not only well-guarded but also valuable. He must have been Jaime Lannister.

The wind picked up, and her silver-gold hair caught in it. Before Myra could decide on whether or not she would want to meet a Lannister, the man raised his blonde head and his mouth curved into a smirk when his green eyes caught her. Myra suddenly felt anxious, again that smirk was not Robb's and it did not feel warm the way Robb's did.

Myra was about to step out into the open as he had seen her and she was determined not to be a coward. But suddenly it seemed that everyone had decided to leave their tents. Myra stayed where she was, she was not ready to meet so many people at once, she was puzzled by the abruptly occupied span of dewy grass. Myra's violet eyes had to take an astonished second glance as Lady Stark walked blindly past her, the older woman seemed to drift aimlessly by the soldiers as she walked towards a growth of trees nearby the camp at the end of the grass column. Just beside her row Myra heard one of the soldiers, who had just arrived, ask about what had happened.

"Lord Eddard Stark has been executed." Another soldier responded.

"Oh gods…" the soldier who had asked muttered.

"Oh gods…" Myra shook her head and found she could only focus on standing, as wolves howled mournfully nearby and faraway.

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><p><strong>Phew! Long-ish chapter!<strong>


	13. Chapter 13: Salt in the Wound

**Friday plus the chapter, as promised. Hope all is well.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen – Salt in the Wound<strong>

_Just beside her row Myra heard one of the soldiers, who had just arrived, ask about what had happened. _

"_Lord Eddard Stark has been executed." Another soldier responded._

_ "Oh gods…" the soldier who had asked muttered._

"_Oh gods…" Myra shook her head and found she could only focus on standing, as wolves howled mournfully nearby and faraway._

Her mind immediately went to Robb and his anguish. On the breeze she, and surely the rest of the camp, could hear the sound of hacking metal and wood from the trees in the distance. She thought of finding Robb, but then Bran and Rickon came to her mind.

She pivoted to see a Stark banner man leaving the boys' tent. Myra was certain that Robb would have matters to sort out and that she would get in the way if she went to find him. Meanwhile, Bran and Rickon would be left alone…left alone with their grief, which Myra felt she could not allow. As the banner man left, Myra walked towards the boys' tent with Silver at her side. Her violet eyes slid down to her wolf for support, Myra took a deep breath and entered the tent.

The boys were on two separate makeshift beds with their wolves on resting their heads against their respective mattresses. "Quit crying Rickon!" Bran spoke loudly, as she entered.

"Myra!" Rickon practically shouted, from his bed. His face was shiny with tears.

"Hello little pup." Myra greeted softly, unable to keep the sadness she was feeling out of her voice. She moved to sit beside Rickon on his bed, Bran appeared to be committed to keeping his mouth shut firm line now. Though the older boy kept his eyes from meeting her, she could see how glossy they were becoming.

Rickon's mouth twisted as he tried to keep himself from crying. Myra ached for the little boy, she pulled him into her lap, "It is ok to cry Rickon there is nothing wrong with it," she hugged the boy as he began sobbing. She rocked Rickon gently, and he began to calm down. Looking worriedly over his head Myra could see Bran continuing to keep his mouth clenched shut.

"Bran?" she prodded as softly as she could. He closed his eyes, and took a deep inhale of air through his nose. He shook his head, his long brown hair swung with the movement.

When he opened his eyes he said in a shaky voice. "My father is dead."

"I know. Bran, I am so sorry" she could see a line of water slowly streaking down the boy's face.

Rickon had stopped, crying though he carried on sniffling while sitting on her lap. Myra was at a loss for words, so they simply sat there in silence, while she swayed diminutively holding Rickon.

"He won't know me…" Rickon's small voice broke their silence. Myra startled for a moment then looked down at the boy in her lap. "When he left I was even smaller…he won't know me now."

Myra thought on what the boy had said. She thought about the man that had helped to create such a family and home, filled with caring and loyalty and warmth. "Oh, little pup. Do not think about how he would not know you, think about the love he had for all of you. That love was for all that you were and all that you would ever become. He may not know you in the future, but that does not mean you cannot know him. Remember him, and he will be with you always…"

"But" Rickon's voice wavered "I already forget things, I've forgotten things…"

"That is why you have your family," she glanced up at Bran, who had more wet streaks running down his face. "Your father lives in their memories" Myra continued to look at Bran "it is painful to talk about people who are gone, and some things fade away but it always is good to remember that they loved you."

"That's how it is with your mother?" Bran asked.

Myra felt herself flinch, before nodding "Yes, talking about her helps me to see her more clearly. I remember the love she had for me and the memory of her gives me some comfort…"

"How will I know he loved me" Rickon asked bashfully.

"Well…" Myra huffed, trying to figure out how explain what she meant to Rickon. She suspected Bran was already aware of what she was speaking about. "When I was little I conspired to run away to the town, any town without telling my mother …I planned to cut off all my hair so that she and no one else would not recognize me." Myra shook her head at the memory "The only thing was that she caught me cutting my hair, I thought she would be mad, instead she cut my hair for me and told me why she thought I should stay…that if I really wanted to leave I could or I could trust her" Myra took a breath, "And I know because of that she loved me, she gave me the chance to choose and let me trust her… and though I would hassle her to leave later on, I knew she loved me and she was one of the people I could at least trust for it. She did not say it but I felt it then and I feel now."

"I do to…" Bran chimed in.

"Really?" Rickon asked his older brother, hope filling his voice.

Bran nodded and began telling of how his father would try to teach him the ways of the Northmen. How their father taught him how to survive as a Stark, because he wanted all of his children to be able to take proper care and live well in the future. Myra sat through the beginnings of the stories, but as they turned to a much more personal nature, she asked if she should leave. Her question had Rickon try to make himself heavier on her lap and Bran simply stated it was easier with her there for some unknown reason.

Just as Myra was about to comment on the lateness of the hour, when the sun began going down and the tent had become difficult to see in, Osha, who had been staying the tent area beside the squires, arrived. The wolves had bristled at her sudden appearance but calmed when she present them with bones from the camp's meal preparation. She had also brought along food for the boys and matches. "Glad to see you're fairin' better Myra…" Osha smiled at the silver haired girl, as she proceeded to light the lamps placed around the tent.

"You too, Osha…"As soon as Osha had entered the tent Bran had stopped telling his story, and Rickon began wiggling on Myra's lap. She thought he had had to relieve himself, but then his stomach grumbled loudly, causing the other three in the tent to laugh. The little boy embarrassedly clutched his arms around his stomach. Myra gave him a squeeze. "Go eat little pup. You both must be starving…"

RIckon climbed off her knees and was about to lift the meat off of one of the plates Osha had brought in and placed on Bran's bed, when he suddenly drew his hand back. He seemed ashamed.

"It's alrigh' little lord, ain't nothing wrong with eatin' helps 'specially when you've had sad news…" despite her encouraging words the little boy did not move.

"Here, I will eat with you…" Myra offered, moving to kneel by Bran's mattress. As she lifted a piece of what looked to be pig to her mouth, Myra could feel her stomach churn with revolution. The food looked fine, but the idea of eating when she felt so rotten made her feel yet more sick. However, she was heartened when she saw RIckon pick up the food as well. Myra had a difficult time with the food sliding down her throat, but once the warmth landed in her stomach she felt a little better. She realized that she had not eaten for the entire day, and hunger now filled her. Rickon began eating with more vigour as well.

She looked at Bran, and pushed one of plates towards him, which he tentatively began pick at.

"How did you know?" Rickon asked with a mouth full of meat and bread to Osha.

"Oh you know the Wall and that…" she trailed off obviously not wanting to talk about her expertise with comfort following the death of a loved one. "I'll just leave you to it then… I got to go teach those boys how to drink..." she said with a smile and began leaving.

"Wait!" Myra called before Osha had completely stepped out of the tent. "Have you eaten?" Ohsa nodded "Well thank you for this" Myra gestured around the dimly lit tent.

"No problem, Myra. See you lot later…" Myra nodded as Osha left.

Bran continued telling stories as they ate. When they had finished Myra had shifted back to sit on Rickon's mattress, whereupon Rickon instead of sitting on her lap chose to lay under the covers of his bed. He listened utterly enthralled by Bran's stories of their father, some the boy's own and other that he had heard from another source. Bran spoke of his father's love of sweetened milk, and how the man was at times horrible horseman. He said he had seen his father fall out of the stirrup of his horse while trying to mount it, Bran had that after that incident his father had told the boy of all the practical reasons a horse was both important and nearly fatal for human existence, especially for males in the second regard. Bran shared tales Robb had told him from their father reading funny childhood passages from their Aunt Lyanna small leather dairy. He said that Robb and Jon and their father would laugh for hours about their father's childhood exploits, and that Robb was saddened when the book had become lost, because he too forgot memories.

Bran began talking about how their mother and father met. He told of how Lady Stark had once been promise to their father's elder brother, Brandon. The dynamic in the tent shifted when he began this story, he spoken clearly but softly. As Bran's fingers traced patterns on the sheet covering him, he talked of how Brandon had fought away another suitor for Lady Stark and how she had truly loved their uncle, then been saddened when the Mad King had killed him.

"Then she did not love father?" Rickon's voice held a tenor of fear. Bran's eyes snapped to from the sheet before him to them boy laying in the bed next to him.

Myra was surprised by how focused she was on Bran's history telling, it took a moment for her violet eyes to follow Bran's.

When Bran did not answer Myra tried "I'm sure your mother loved your father very deeply…to make such a family and fight so tirelessly for him and this family, she must have…"

"I did…" Myra whipped her head around so quickly, her neck hurt. The quiet voice had come from Lady Stark, who stood at the flap of the tent. She looked to be dead on her feet. The older woman continued as she stepped further into the tent. "I do…Rickon, Bran…I grew to love your father more than I can even start to say…" Lady Stark's gaze landed on Myra. A cross between gratefulness and curiosity filled their blue depths, Myra suddenly began feeling out of place in such a personal moment once again.

"I am sorry, my lady" Myra stood up, cut off Rickon before he could protest, as she carried on "Your mother must want to spend some time with you" she addressed the boys "I will leave you…" she glanced back at Lady Stark, who nodded and took Myra's place on Rickon's bed once the girl had moved.

She gave the boys and older lady as smile, as Silver followed her out of the tent. Once she was outside Myra had the need to breathe. Myra felt the events and stories of the past hours had constricted her, seeking space she made her way to the column of grass. Upon reaching it, Myra faced the starry sky, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, immediately she felt less heavy.

Myra let her head hang down as she wearily rubbed the back of her neck.

"Hello there auxiliary dragon!" Myra's violet eyes popped open, she lifted them to find the origin of the voice. Silver growled beside her as her gaze landed on the blonde, smirking head of Jaime Lannister. He was sporting what appeared to be a painful gash over his left eye, which had not been there when she had seen him earlier.

"I'm not a dragon…" Myra corrected him.

"What are you then?" the smug quality of his smirk, appeared to have completely meshed with the sound of her voice.

"A human, a Stark, a wolf." she challenged, thinking of the night before and the morning.

"Are you certain of that, my lady?"

"Positive Ser. And I am not a lady…"

Ignoring her correction he offered "Well our Lord Stark appears to collect more wolves everyday…"

Now intrigued by what he was saying Myra asked "How do you mean?"

"I am not sure what I mean…why don't you ask your beloved wolf, what Lord Frey and his many maiden daughters asked for as crossing toll at the Twins…" his sharp green eyes danced with delight, sensing he had correctly hit on something between the eldest Stark and the silver haired girl.

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><p><strong>Oh Jaime…. he has to be such a Lannister…<strong>


	14. Chapter 14: Choice Needs

**Happy Monday! Editing bugs are still alive and at large. Just fair warning that the rating will probably be bumping up at some point...be ready. Here we go!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen – Choice Needs<strong>

"_I am not sure what I mean…why don't you ask your beloved wolf, what Lord Frey and his many maiden daughters asked for as crossing toll at the Twins…" his sharp green eyes danced with delight, sensing he had correctly hit on something between the eldest Stark and the silver haired girl._

Confusion rushed through Myra. Toll? Maiden daughters? As realization knocked the wind out of Myra, she felt angry at herself. What a fool she was…what was she compared to the daughter of a Lord?

Through her slightly distorted vision she could still see that arrogant smirk on the Lannister's blood spattered face. She did not want him to know he had affected her so acutely. Myra reminded herself to be composed, her determination to steadily face more people to seemed to give her strength to defend herself as well.

"Ser, it seems that wound you have sustained has caused your face to become stuck in a ridiculous manner…this is not your fault, but perhaps you should rest… if not for the sake of your face than for the sake of how seriously you are taken by others…" his smirk faltered "Good night, Ser." Myra spun around and walked back towards and then down her row of tents, with Silver following her. Only allowing her legs to shake when she was sure his piercing green glare could no longer see her.

She swallowed looking at Silver for encouragement as she approached Robb's tent. A part of her wished to run away and another wanted to know the truth. If he had promised what Jaime Lannister said he had to the Freys, any future she had wanted with Robb would certainly be gone. Could she be without him? Myra took a deep breath in preparation as she stood by the flap of the tent. She could detect a faint outline of light against the opening of the tent, she knew that he was definitely in there.

Myra glanced once again at Silver. She could not be without him…but she would make herself be, it was only right. She would hate for Robb to treat her as the Frey girl would be treated if Robb did end up jilting her. In the Frey girl's shoes Myra would also be hurt to find him having a love affair with another woman...she was hurt now, Robb could already love another woman, a lady, the thought made the silver haired girl want to run away in any direction.

"Courage" Myra whispered to herself, as she finally entered Robb's tent.

What she was met with broke her heart. Judging by the shirt he held in his right hand and the visibility of his toned chest Robb had clearly been in the middle of changing out of his dirty clothes, when he had decided to sit on the edge of his bed. She could see a thin sliver of a long healed scar running across over his right collar bone to his ribs disappearing under his arm. There was a long bandaged wound on his left forearm, she had not been able to see earlier beneath his clothes. His dark hair had been pushed to stick up in odd directions as though he had been raking his fingers through it. His free hand was covering his eyes, though his cheeks were stained with water and his body was shaking with quiet sobs. Myra felt her breathing was restricted once more, she was heavy again. As silently as she could Myra removed her cloak and shoes which helped with the weight, but found that she still felt burning within her body and that she could not get enough air.

As she pulled at the ties on the back of her dress, Myra's mind longed for the cold and intrinsic freedom in the Northern air. From where she stood by the tent's opening Myra was able to wriggle out of her simple thick dress almost inaudibly. Left in her light and cool cotton chemise, Myra felt less burdened, with room in her ribs to be free to think. She padded to the table in the tent and placed her clothes there gently, Silver followed moving towards Grey Wind, resting on top of him on the ground.

At Myra's movement Robb raised his grey tearful gaze, stopping her actions. "Myra" he spoke her name, choking on a sob. Myra had practically no control over herself, her legs simply moved her to stand before him, just as he began to crumble again. His head landed against the soft span of her stomach as he fell forward. He wrapped his arms around her waist, clinging to her, burying his nose into her clothed skin. Myra's knees trembled as she felt hot gasps of breath escape through his lips.

"I have t…" Myra tried to keep her hands at her sides, disappointed that she had already betrayed herself. However, she found that as Robb began shaking with tears she could not keep herself emotionally in check, no more than she could be physically away from him, when he was near.

"You are not going anywhere…" he gritted against her stomach, tightening his hold on her enough to cause Myra to worry about the wound on his forearm. As she raised her right hand to smooth his messy hair back, Myra realized the idea of ever leaving Robb Stark in no way, shape or form could ever make any sense. "Are you?"

She curled into him hugging him to her body, "Shhh...of course not…" she tried to relax him by running her fingers over the tense muscles of his bare back "I can't walk out there in my shift can I?" though she said it jokingly, Myra realized she had been proving to herself that she could not leave him, even as she had been deciding on the matter. She could have kept every item of clothing that she had taken off earlier on, but she had unknowingly sabotaged herself, she had wanted to stay with him, she had no intention of leaving him.

Everything in her wanted to help the broken man she was holding. Tonight his pain would come first. Though Myra felt as though she was on the verge of being torn apart with the knowledge that the man she loved would not be hers, she could not make herself bring up the topic when he sat in so much anguish. As she traced the tips of her fingers over his taut shoulders, Myra wondered about how long she would be able to hold her tongue on the matter. It seemed that her lips longed to broach the subject, she could feel the words about the Frey girl push against the backside of her teeth, yet she could not spit them out.

Instead Myra sighed "Come on and rest now" as she stood up straight, trying to push Robb shoulders so that he would lay back on his bed. But the grey-eyed man would not let her waist go, and he took her with him as he fell back, landing so that they lay on their sides with her chin rested on the top of his head and his nose nestled against her neck. She could feel the stubble on his face brush the suddenly sensitive skin of her chest, skin made bare by the scoop in the cut of her shift. Robb's hot breath flushed her flesh, but when she felt his tears Myra filled solely with concern for him. She wrapped her arms around his head, wanting desperately to protect him, he seemed to have the same thought as he burrowed his face into her chest.

"Cry if you have to Robb" Myra drew her leg over both of his, trying to make him feel safe and calm. "I love you, I love you…" the refrain was all that she could think to say and so she repeated it, pressing her lips against his hair. She hoped he sensed the truth of her words, she felt as though she were forcing the emotion out to him through every pore of her body. "I love you…"

Robb stopped shuddering slowly, taking in shaky breaths, he pulled his lower body closer to hers and dug his face further into Myra's skin, he groaned deeply. Between his breath and the heat of her skin his tears dried quickly.

"I suppose it had been building all day" he tried to explain away his tears with his raspy voice, "I wanted you as soon as I had heard but..." his lips caressing her flesh and his tongue darted out as he spoke "I'm sorry…you had to see..."

"Robb," she interrupted him "do not ever be sorry for what you do before me…" he nodded slightly, taking in a long inhale though his nose.

"It will be true war now…" he heaved a sigh, apparently speaking to sort out the events and his thoughts from the day "…I have to get my sisters back and there will be no peace now that my father is d-dead…" his voice broke for a moment, as she continued drawing calming circles over his bare shoulders, though she had tensed at the notion of no peace as well. He took in another breath, he kissed her skin before carrying on in his rough voice "…they, the lords, made me…" he faltered, seeming to be truly trying to breathe her in, he pulled her closer.

"They made you what?" her fingers halted in their path across his skin, she could not mask the worry in her tone.

"They made me King of the North…" he professed, his tenor suggested that he was not wholly comfortable with the title himself.

Myra was stunned, she felt her mouth and body go lax in Robb's arms. King?

When she could summon the sense to speak she stammered "K-King… King of the North?" she felt him nod. Myra took a moment to totally wrap her mind around the idea. As she did the declaration of the banners seemed to make more sense. Surely if there was to be no peace between the Northern kingdoms and the Iron Throne there would have to be a King of the North again. And her Robb, who had led battles, led men, seen his great father rule a realm could be king…

"I know…" Robb's suddenly tired voice added "'King'…it is too much for a day, too much for just over a year now…it" he nuzzled his nose against her "it scares me, my father is gone, never to return…what if I'm not ready? I feel like a foolish boy…he would advise me and steer me clear of missteps, tell me how to spare lives…"

Myra did not fully know why, but his words made her deeply sad. Sad enough to cause tears to prick her violet eyes, she squeezed her limbs around him once more.

When she was sure her voice would not crack Myra spoke, wanting to give him strength "They would not have asked if they did not think you able…"

"I do not want to let my father, my family down…" he revealed, in quiet disinclination.

"You won't, if you are Robb Stark…if you can live with your conscience and not let yourself down, that is what matters…it is all that matters…" Myra tried.

His head shook "You matter…" he murmured, his once more exhausted lips pulling across her exposed chest.

"Me?" Myra thought of her own compromised sense of right and wrong "I will live with you Robb in any way I could get you, whatever conscience …" though the thought of the heartbroken Frey girl caused Myra to feel horrible. Nevertheless, she knew to the very marrow of her bones that she could not leave the man in her arms.

"I am glad" he spoke drowsily, "will be any type of king with… my Queen…Myra…" his sleepy lips had hardly been moving but his words rang in her ears.

Queen Myra? Yet another name that did not sit well with the girl. The words together had caused Myra to feel uncomfortable even though she was aware that the now sleeping man could not have meant the designation…

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><p><strong>Remember about the future rating. Also new season in April! Haven't watched the promotional clips or the adverts (feels like watching would spoil some of the plot execution) but people talk and what they say sounds good so far. Excited! :)<strong>


	15. Chapter 15: True

**Editing and school…ugh... fluff :D**

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen – True<strong>

Robb woke up far more comfortable than he should have been on his wartime bed. His pillow smelt mouthwatering as it rose and fell beneath his head. The hardness he was feeling in his body had become something familiar for him to wake up to since Myra had entered his life. With the soft mound Robb felt his left hand cupping was driven to further distraction. His fingers involuntarily squeezed the softness under his battle roughened palm causing her flesh to harden a little, while eliciting soft mewl from above his head.

Gods! He could live and die in such a safe place. When she had returned to him, Robb felt as though he may have burst apart with the joy he felt, everything since that moment had been as a dream until last night…his sisters were still captive and…his father was dead. His mentor, his guardian, his lord, friend, counselor and supporter had been vanished off of the face of the Earth. A good, honourable man had been accused of treason and sent to death. And he, the son of that man, had been proclaimed of the King of the North. If Robb had ever felt awkward with a position or title it was never more so than now. King…after almost three hundred years there was to be a King of Winter again and he had no one to help him.

Well that was not completely true. There was the girl that he was comfortably resting his head upon, she was a stable and sound sanctuary for him and his doubts. The night before Robb had put on a confident façade for his men, but upon entering his tent with Grey Wind he found himself breaking down. He had hoped that Myra may have been there, but was met with an empty place. Mid-way between changing and trying to busy himself, Robb fell apart in the silence of the private space. Everything he had been trying to bottle inside of himself since he had hacked away at that tree in the forest by the encampment, had flooded through him.

Then she had appeared, he had thought that he had imagined her calming presence but when he lifted his head she was there, before him. Wearing only a chemise, similar to the one she used to wear in her weakened state at Winterfell, however this one was thinner, clearly meant to be worn with a dress. He was grateful for its thinness, for some reason the closer he was able to get to her skin the calmer and simultaneously thrilled he became. He was sure she had bewitched him. Robb felt intoxicated by, even addicted to, the thought of her.

Robb restrained an appreciative groan when he felt her fingers ghost against the curls at the nape of his neck, then travel further into his hair. His own fingers, in their unique and dissenting approval, tightened gently around her softness. She abruptly stopped in her hand in his typically disheveled hair. "Robb?" she queried, as he cursed his own traitor hand.

"Seven hells…" he muttered mouth pushed against the supple skin of her chest. "I was asleep…I promise…" he nestled head against her flesh.

"Sure…"

Robb moved to brace his neck on his right hand, with his elbow resting on the mattress, next to her shoulder. Her legs kept his tangled where they were and he kept his left hand where it was, planted on her breast. Robb's playful grey eyes met her violet eyes "Don't you trust me?" he dragged his left palm deliberately over her hardening peak as he moved his hand towards the space between her arm and torso. Myra's skin flushed and she bit her bottom lip temptingly, her scorching eyes remained focused on his. She nodded her head. Once Robb fingers had reached her back he pulled her into his body, kissing her sweet, soft lips.

He was not lying, he could not get enough of her taste. Her mouth was a siren's call to him, once he began, stopping seemed nearly impossible. Even with the lightest intended kiss she pulled him in and he never wanted to leave her. When her tongue touched his, he felt the frenzy begin within him. At such times thinking of things that repulsed him helped to calm him down, for the most part. He was certain this woman would be the death of him.

Gasping, Robb pulled his mouth from hers. Myra's eyes looked almost sleepy, she was breathing heavily and her lips were puffy from the force of their kiss.

"Thief…" she smiled lazily up at him. As she scanned his face her lightheartedness faded into worry, nearing dismay. The grin that he had been forming dropped from Robb's face.

"What's the matter?"

"I…" she sighed, moving to sit up on the bed, with Robb following close behind. Myra hid her face from him, drawing her shining hair between them. Robb instantly tucked her locks behind her ear, so he could see the side of downcast face.

"What is it, little dragon?" He asked shuffling closer to her, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, nudging the side of her face. Helplessly inhaling her delectable scent as his entire being filled with unrest for his Myra. "Please tell me…"

She sniffed, "Do you…" eyes focused on picking at her nails "…I…the Freys…" though she stumbled through it her message was conveyed.

Robb's grey eyes widened with shock, then simmering anger "Who told you?" he asked gruffly.

"Does it matter?" her voice sounded defeated.

"I suppose not. I was going to tell you when…"

"When?" her previously demur tone had morphed into one filled with aggravation. "On the day of your wedding I…Robb, I am sorry to bring it up now but I-" Myra turned her head to fix her fiery violet eyes on his distressed face, almost immediately they softened "I can't be mad at you…it's not fair!" she let out a frustrated growl. "I want to be…so badly, but I… Robb I need to be with you and tied to you I don't care how…" her voice had broken into a series of lost battles with herself. Her violet smolder had been subdued and held nothing but truth as she waited for his response.

During which time Robb was left trying to make his jaw function properly. He tried to shake the words she was saying into some clear line of thought in his mind. "Do you think I would ever…could ever do that to you?"

Myra shook her head. "You would not but you are a Stark, a Northmen, rather renowned for staying true to your word. So how will you with the Frey girl?"

Robb frowned "The Frey girl?" Seeing now that Myra knew only some of the details of the arrangement. "I think I had better clear up some new things about my whole understanding with Lord Frey …but let's be comfortable first" he pulled her to lay down, with her back pressed against his bare chest, he curled his body around hers. Robb lifted her soft hair over her head pushing his nose into the back of her neck. He sighed, she tried wiggling away from him a little but he would not allow it. He was sure there was no gap, other than their clothing, between their bodies anymore. He traced his lips down the curve of her neck "I told you I would never let you go, my little dragon…" he bit her shoulder gently yet again. Robb smiled to himself as he felt her shiver, he felt a riveting surge of pride and assertion of claim each time he marked her skin. It felt primal and uncivilized and so utterly right.

"Now" Robb began speaking "I love you. I love you. Gods! I could get obsessed with saying those words to you Myra. I love you and fully intend to have you as my lover, my wife, my home…" he took in a satisfying inhale, before continuing "I have yet to meet a Frey properly…I had given you up for dead, and did what had to be done at the time and, ever since Silver appeared I have been trying to figure out how to break the agreement without ruining our relationship with the Freys…that was why I was so eager to answer Lord Frey's raven yesterday… I have given him the option of taking Lord Tully, my uncle, for one of his many, many children…

"I have been trying to conceal your value to me from the Frey banner men for as long as I can, with their tents some distance from mine it is unlikely they would see you in close quarters with me but not it without risk, losing their support would greatly impact our numbers," he grumbled "it has been rather difficult especially when I want to scream out the world that you are mine…" Robb sniffed at base of her neck "I hope he will agree, if not then I will marry you nonetheless…"

"You would ruin yourself for me?"

"It is not ruining, you are meant to be mine in every way possible…" he felt her burrow back, against his body, as though she were seeking warmth from him in winter.

"But I would be the cause of the tension between your banners… Robb, it makes me feel rotten to have the root of so much pain laying at my feet …"

"Pain? You know not what you give me, Myra. You provide me with a sense of peace I did not know could exist. I cannot do what lays before me without you, perhaps before I knew you were missing I could have, but you are here and I can guarantee my kingdom and I are better for it…"

He felt her stiffen at his mention of a kingdom. Robb placed a soft kiss against the skin of her neck, she relaxed into him again though the tension did not fully leave her body. "Does the thought of a kingdom disturb you so?… I hate to have you upset. I can call it something else, but rest assured you will be bound to me…."

"It's not the 'kingdom' it is the title, Robb ,I have never want any more power than I needed to live…I do not know if 'Queen' and I will fit well together. I specifically hoped to be a bastard to avoid the trappings of the courtly intrigue, political power schemes and backstabbing that my mother told and taught me about… a part of me thinks you should not take a girl with very little knowledge of the world and even less experience with people, as your bride. Surely, someone else could wield power better than I…"

"Myra" Robb heard his voice become severe. Each one of her words made him angrier, she was attacking herself, and he despised it. "Roll-over" slowly she shifted to face him though her markedly saddened violet eyes would not meet his. He hooked a finger under chin so that she was forced to look into his hard stony stare.

"You are not to think such things of yourself, you will be my Queen in whichever way suits you… but you will never hurt yourself so harshly again…" his voice melted into pure gentleness "I cannot bare it…"

Myra's eyes roamed over his face "I love you, Robb" the left side of her mouth quirked in a small smile.

He replied with his own lips curving in a smile. Pinching her chin between his fingers, his nose wrinkled up as he spoke "Again, little dragon…"

"I love you Robb Stark." With that she sprung forward to soundly press her warm, wet lips against his mouth. Robb fell back to lose himself in her dominating, yet tender kiss when the sound of a grunt snapped him out of his distraction.

"Lord Stark? …Your grace?" a tentative voice asked from just inside the opening of the tent.

Robb sighed against Myra's pink, swollen lips "It's 'your grace' now" he comment acerbically.

Myra raised her eyebrows "You are quite graceful" she remarked with a slight giggle.

"My lord" the voice called again.

"The world calls my little dragon…things must go on…" Robb felt a rush of inspiration and then excitement as he took in the silver haired girl above him. "I wish to show you something tonight, can you be here and dressed warmly at sunset?"

Myra's face crinkled with confusion, as she nodded. "Good. I must be off then." He sat up, telling the Stark banner man he was on his way, Robb dressed quickly, haphazardly running his hand through his hair. "I love you Myra." She smiled widely at him, as Grey Wind followed him back into the real world.

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><p>The tactics in the battle planning tent varied from each combat seasoned lord and each house, each one certain of their absolute correctness in war. The mood in the tent as such was one thick with bubbling tension, not aided by the worried glances of Robb's mother and the growls from Grey Wind at Robb's feet. However, over the course of their fighting Robb had earned a place of authority amongst the older, far more experienced men. While he was certainly open to taking good ideas, Robb was sure of the strength of his own battle plans, which seemed effective to an admittedly uncanny degree. Since the Battle of the Camps, which had freed Riverrun from the Lannisters, the Tullys and the Reeds had been the most supportive of Robb's views, much as the Umbers and Karstarks of the North. The Freys and Boltons expressed their concerns often and in whispered voices, which irritated more than just Robb in the party.<p>

Even so, Robb understood he was not in a position to pick and choose friends. His place, his would-be base in the North had been taken. Until he had it returned to him and had his troops in Winterfell, Robb knew that for the time being, at least, he would have to take allies where he could get them. At the moment he was a king no better off than Viserys Targaryen, the Beggar King, with no true seat and therefore no true kingdom.

Robb had planned to launch an attack on the Westerlands, as Lord Tywin Lannister had emptied his troops out of his homeland in order to meet the Northern forces in the RIverlands. Since their defeat the Lannister forces had been driven further east to Harrenhal on the border of the Riverlands. As the lords strategized it became clear to Robb that far more blood would be spilled in this new year. Once they were finished and the lords began filing out of the tent Robb asked his grey-haired, but spry Great-uncle Brynden and his Uncle Edmure both of House Tully to linger behind, along with his mother.

He spoke lowly drawing their ears in close to hear his voice "I only hold you here because the next I am to say to you is of the utmost importance and depends completely on understanding all aspects of my design to pen the Western troops and lords in their lands. Uncle Edmure, you will stay in Riverrun as discussed before, but you will only make feeble attempts to stop their forces from crossing the Riverlands. It must appear though all of our forces have not been split to the West and East of the Riverlands, that only number adequate to protect Riverrun remain, so as to not arose suspicion…" the older men and Lady Stark nodded, as the logic of Robb plan clicked into place in their minds.

"Uncle Bryden," Robb eyes fell on the grey haired man "I tell you this because, should I fall…" he ignored his mother sharp intake of breath "…you will need to know how to carry on when we defeat of the forces regrouping in the West as planned. From what I have heard of him, I am positive that Tywin Lannister will not stand by as his golden land is purged, he had no reason not to come to its defense straight away…through Cersi, the Lannister's still hold the Iron Throne and the Bartheon brothers seem intent on destroying one another.

"Uncle Edmure," Robb looked at his red bearded uncle "once he has entered the Westerlands, you will follow to enclose the Lannisters with the Tully, the Bolton and some of the Frey troops, who will remain at Riverrun. As you all can understand the success of this plan relies solely on our advantage of surprise… complete secrecy is essential. Uncle Edmure you will make sure to keep a fast eye on the Boltons and Freys" the red haired man nodded with understanding "After this conservation I do not want speak of this plan until Uncle Bryden scouts the Western troops…"

"Robb…" his mother gaped at her son, her blue eyes wide filled with a mixture of shock and pride.

His uncles thwacked Robb on his back in a show of impressed support. "You truly are the Young Wolf, my boy" his Uncle Bryden grinned with his withered and lined face "as true as I am the Blackfish…"

They were interrupted by the bustling entrance of a Tully page "Excuse me, my lords, my lady…" the young boy noticed Robb "your-r grace…" the boy stuttered and seemed to decide to awkwardly bow.

"Lord is fine, boy" Robb stated, encouragingly. He, himself, was still adjusting to the idea of 'King'…of his father being dead…of sisters and home being lost… Robb shook his head. He needed Myra to focus… "Well out with it!" he urged the boy.

"There was a raven from the Twins, my lord" the boy held out a scroll of paper to Robb in his dirty hand. Robb looked at the piece of paper, in it he would either find malice or clemency, any road he knew and was reassured that no matter what it would all lead to Myra. His body warmed at the thought and he could not help but smile.

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><p><strong>Editing and school…ugh... XP<strong>


	16. Chapter 16: Sovereign Feeling

**Enjoy! Dirty bits and all...thanks nice school sympathizers :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen – Sovereign Feeling<strong>

At sunset Myra sat on the bed in Robb's tent, dressed as he had asked in her, which was to say she wore the same clothes and cloak she had been wearing since leaving Winterfell. The last wash they had was in the river crossing to reach Riverrun. Myra felt rather inadequate, a dirty girl in dirty clothes with a dirty mind. That morning Myra had woken up filled with sensations that she could only describe as delicious. Robb's explanation and plan had filled her with such relief she thought she would scream in happiness.

But all through the day, while continuing to console Bran and Rickon, talking to Osha and walking with Silver, Myra had a sense of dread chase her. A sense fueled by her disgust at her own willingness to compromise the lives of so many men in order to selfishly pursue her happiness with Robb. It was as though she was fighting a war with herself, and she was quite certain that the part of her arguing for Robb was winning…had won. She had thought about telling the boys about her relationship with Robb, but the continually doubtful voice in her head stopped her. Myra did not want to promise them something that could be still uncertain especially when they had just lost their father. Building up their hopes, building up her own hopes, when everything could crash down did not seem like the right thing to do. Though she knew her place was with Robb, Myra could not help the voice in her mind nagging about her self-respect.

"If mother were here…" Myra began speaking to Silver, who sat on the ground before her "she would…" Myra paused searching right words, as Silver cocked her head patiently waiting. Myra sighed, running her hand over her face "say the right thing…reassure me…" Silver moved to comfortingly rest her head on Myra's knee. The girl smiled down at her wolf, "Thank you…" she mumbled appreciatively.

"Myra?" Robb stood, wearing a concerned expression on his face. "Are you well?"

Much as the previous night, Myra felt all of her doubts and fears wash away. She smiled at him "I'm fine…" worry still coloured his features. "I promise" she offered, standing to meet him. Sometimes she forgot how big he was, how tall. She craned her neck to stare up at him. He as always smelt so incredibly good, warm and safe. "So" she stood on her toes to meld her lips against his "where are we going?" He responded only with his lips curving into a secretive smile.

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><p>They had entered the shadowy forest in the humid land surrounding Riverrun. Robb had denied giving any clue to where they were going. Silver and Grey Wind took off together howling and chasing in the distance. As they walked and talked they picked raspberries and blueberries from the growth around them, though it was cold it seemed that the dank environment allowed the fruit to grow. Robb explained the cut on his arm was shallow and the bandages were to prevent infection. The scar from his collar bone to ribs had come from an unfortunate slash by Jon when they were eight, disobeying their father and playing with heavy sword. "Another opportunity for my mother to hate him so unjustly" he remarked bitterly, though there was a twinge of guilt in his tone.<p>

Myra eyes caught his grey depths from a short distance, "you have a lot love for him" he nodded "I'm sorry you had to see him in such pain…" He smiled warmly at her as they continued to walk in comfortable silence for a stretch picking berries simply enjoying one another's company. Eventually, Myra had asked Robb how he knew of her troubled sleep, and felt her cheeks flame up when he explained that though she hardly moved in her sleep when he was with her he had often found her in twisted sheets.

Robb had suddenly stopped in a moonlit and unkempt moss covered clearing. Myra's searched for why he could have halted in this spot. He moved to stand within arm's reach of her, taking the berries she had collected on the ground. "Robb," she asked, perplexed by his actions and this beautiful place. "Where are we?"

"We are in a very old godswood" he gesture to the crying heart tree, just past his shoulder. Myra knew that the Old Gods had been forsaken in the Riverlands, and she understood how the sacred place could be left in ruin, frankly she was surprised that the weirwood had not been cut down. He grunted as he stood up straight, and he began digging through his pockets "I was born at Riverrun…" Myra looked on interest but still unsure of the meaning behind Robb's behaviour. "During Robert's Rebellion my mother stayed with her family, when I was a child I became obsessed with learning about my birthplace…" he continued, presenting a roll of paper to her. She did not even have to ask before he spoke "It's the reply from the Freys…" his stone eyes scanned her face, looking for her reaction.

Myra had not been ready for his statement. She felt the weight in his eyes on her, as her violet travelled to his fingers curled around the note. "What did it say?" her voice was scarcely a whisper.

"I don't know," he answered simply. Myra head snapped up, she found again that she did not have to ask, when he carried on "It does not matter what it says, I will be with you" his eyes were alight with the passion of his words, he swiftly gathered her in his arms, burying his nose against her silver hair.

"I know I that I have responsibilities and my priorities may be insane according to some, but I do not, I cannot even bring myself to care. When I am with you I forget the world is there, it becomes easier to think in the bubble that we create I feel free, like my honest self. Myra I need you in my life, I need you always. Knowing that you are here is what pulls me together when I feel ready to explode… I want a life with you, I want to marry you…"

"I want to marry you too Robb, bu-"

The note was forgotten when he pressed a kiss to her lips, briefly letting his tongue dart into her mouth "I want to marry you now. That is why we are here, before the heart tree," Myra could practically feel the charged energy running through his vein. His grey eyes had never looked so confident. "I might not be royal or grand…"

Myra moved her body into his, returning his kiss though her tongue lingered longer in his mouth, causing him to groan as his hips rolled forward a little against hers "I would marry you Robb Stark anywhere, at anytime" she spoke breathlessly, pressing her forehead against his, looking directly into his grey eyes. "I will say again that I love you not the trinkets or titles… the heart tree is more than enough…" he smiled showing his teeth.

Holding her close he looked for a place to begin. "I suppose we start with the vows one at a time…" Myra nodded. As Robb continued "Myra, gods help me but I love you more than life. From the moment I held you, spoke with you" he dipped his head to the curve of her neck and inhaled "smelt you" he nipped the skin there, causing Myra to pushing further against him "bit you. I knew that you were meant to be mine…though did not say it. Gods I felt it, more quickly and clearly than I had ever felt anything before…" He left a kiss at her neck and pulled back to peer directly into her deep lavender eyes.

"Myra, my little dragon, my darling, my love I swear to you that I will always be true. I will keep you safe with every last drop of my blood, I will honour you, I will love you like no other with all of what I am and will be, you will never be without me I will follow wherever you may go…I would have the whole wide world know that you are mine…" as his husky voice filled her ears, Myra was sure if she were without Robb's support she would have fallen over, indeed she was no longer on the ground, Robb was holding her so tightly he had lifted her up.

"Robb" Myra started, he smiled gently for her to go on "So much has changed in my life even from last year and now I cannot think of my life without you in it. Whatever future I see is with you by my side. I need you as I need air, as a fish needs water. I need you, I cannot make anything of the world if you are not with me. When we are apart my soul howls for you, rips my heart to pieces in my chest, I cannot ever be away from you. I will love you until the day I die, my spirit will love you after that. I want your children" Robb hips moved again and Myra could longer look him in the eye, so she pulled herself to his neck and buried her face there. She continued in a throaty whisper "I want to grow old with you, fight with you, do banal things with you, I want to be yours and no one else's. I will love you with everything of myself as long as I am able to give you anything of myself."

His tongue languorously lapped up the line of her chin, reaching her mouth, only to gently rest there a moment before his teeth teased and tugged at her swollen bottom lip. "Now," he stated "I have to put my cloak on you, grey and white are Stark colours, but if black is close enough for-"

Myra moved her head, laying another kiss forcing her tongue in his mouth, kissing him so deeply she could feel goose pimples spread from her legs all the way up her body. He responded with as much fervour. They moved apart just far enough to breath, his lips brushed hers as he spoke "it's close enough then?" She grinned and nodded her head. Robb set her down on the ground and pulled his old cloak from her shoulders, and replaced it with the one he was wearing. Their eyes did not did not leave one another's for a moment. Robb's stormy grey gaze seemed to be growing darker with each passing second.

Myra felt herself heat up under his intense stare, her skin was positively on fire and she was surprised to find the look he was giving her excited her rather than frightened her.

"Gods I love you" Robb said softly. Myra pounced back into his arms, she adored the feeling of being there. She moved her lips from his neck to his ear.

"What's next?"

"Feast…" his voice sounded strained. Myra shocked herself, as she suddenly nibbled his earlobe.

Robb groaned, from deep down she felt the rumble in his body. He held her closer and stumbled two steps forward before catching his balance "What are you trying to do little dragon?" his hot mouth pressed against her naked shoulder.

"Feast…" muttered innocently into his ear.

"I was thinking of the berries, but…"

"Ah!" He bit at the place on her shoulder that he marked some days ago. Myra felt her toes curl at his harder bite, a slight pain followed by the pleasure of his tongue. She gasped against his ear. Once they were able Robb, set her on the ground, kneeling to pick the two of berries that they had collected "Raspberry or Blueberry?" he asked when he stood back up.

"Raspberry " she smiled holding out her hand in the small gap between their bodies. He handed her the Blueberry, with a smile to mirror hers.

"Good, always like blueberries best" he held the raspberry to her lips and as she caught on she held the blueberry to his, their eyes locked turbulent grey on blistering violet. They fed one another though Myra took the raspberry into her mouth, Robb clasped his hand around her right wrist and kept her index finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip of it. Myra could not tear her eyes away from his and felt sure the heat running through her would melt her into a puddle at his feet.

He drew her finger out of his mouth "Juice" he offered with a smirk.

"Hmmm…" Myra was having trouble remembering how to speak.

"It's the bedding next…" he went on as though Myra was not partially incoherent.

Myra shook her head and told herself to be brave, she grinned at what she was about to say "Shall I go fetch some men from camp?" Robb's face fell, and his features darkened dangerously at her reference to the tradition of men carrying and undressing the bride on the way to the consummation bed.

He pulled her against his body, so that their hips collided together, the hardness prodded her stomach again "I don't want anyone else to see you that way…ever…"

The grin had faded from Myra's face and she spoke honestly "I don't anyone but you to see me…"

"Good" with that he crashed his lips against hers. Myra felt as though her blood was boiling in her veins, Robb began a trail of opened mouth kisses against her throat. Myra's eye fell on the face of the heart tree, who looked to be smiling.

"Wait Robb…" he slowed in his kisses but did not stop moving his mouth over her skin "in the godswood?"

"The gods have seen everything Myra" he spoke against her neck "It may be good fortune…" Myra glanced at the weirwood again…it was definitely smiling. Myra dug her hands into Robb's hair and pulled his mouth to hers, holding him there until she felt as though she would faint.

She felt him pushing the cloak that he had just put on her off of her shoulder, his hand moved slowly up her back, and she felt him tug on the ties of her dress. A sudden pang of nervousness hit her.

"Robb…I-I won't know…" she stuttered against his mouth. He pulled away so that his nose could nuzzle hers.

"Just relax, it will come naturally, trust me…"

"I do trust you" now something else was filling her head. Had he done this before? Of course, he was a man of noble birth from the North, he probably had years of experience with women who knew and could do things, they were probably very beautiful and smart as well…

Myra was so consumed between his caresses and her paranoid thoughts she had not realized that Robb had finished unlacing her dress. He stepped away and looked at her expectantly as she held the fabric up around her breasts.

"Do not hide from me my little dragon" he moved towards her and pulled her arm away from the dress, the thin shift she wore underneath it was nothing like the thick cotton chemises she had worn in his presence before, outside of his tent, in the moonlight this fact was clear. As the thin material pooled at her feet Robb stepped back to take her in. Myra wanted to cover herself but resisted, he had asked her not to. But as his increasingly dark eyes roamed over her body she felt as though she was being devoured in the moonlight. "Oh my lovely Myra, you are temptation incarnate. Do you know what you do to me?"

She shook her head, he was pressed to her front in a flash, she felt a larger hardness push against her stomach. "This" he hissed. She was curious now, as the heat filled her nether regions, she began tugging at the buckle of sword belt and the clasps on this jacket to see what exactly lay beneath. He let her, she made sure to kiss newly exposed, running her fingers over his scars taking note so she could ask about them later as earlier his kisses against her throat and chest had made her impatient. She had made relatively quick work of his upper half, when she got to his pants she simply gulped and pulled them down. Robb did the rest from there kicking off his boots and the fabric off of his ankles the rest of the way.

He pulled her out of her crouch to kiss her still gaping mouth, the feeling of hot skin against skin sent a shiver through every part of Myra, she felt more heat gush to her centre. Every place that their bodies were in contact felt a thousand time more sensitive than ever before, especially with what she now knew to be pressed against her stomach. She pulled back from Robb again, recalling her apprehension from a moment ago, Myra was truly quite petrified. "Robb…" she panted.

"Yes, my love?"

"Is 'that'" she gestured her head downwards "going to fit in me?" Robb's grey eyes flitted with amusement briefly, before he stared into hers lilac ones and saw her fear. "Wo-won' t it tear? Is every man so…"

"Don't worry about other men. It is only me, and you can trust me, I promise you will be fine…I hear there is some pain for the first, but that goes away…" Myra nodded as he kissed her lips again, she remembered what her mother had said of losing her maidenhood. It did not sound very nice…

Robb lowered their bodies on the soft mossy ground. He groaned as his hot mouth began moving down her body, tasting her skin. That familiar sensation started to coil in her belly, causing her violet eyes to close tingles ran up and down her legs, she wriggled against him as he stretched out his tongue and licked her hardening nipple, swirling the tip around the darkened skin surrounding. Myra felt his lips warm against her skin, amazed that such a touch could raise goose bumps all over her body, a low moan left her lips as Robb moved his talented mouth to her other breast, Myra buried her fingers in his hair pulling him closer, causing him to growl in pleasure.

He teased his mouth away from her sensitive flesh, Myra whimpered in protest. Not for long though as she felt his devilish fingers move down the soft span of her stomach, anticipation fill her and a rush of wetness ran though her center. "Myra" his breath feathered over her face, "open your eyes for me…"

Robb had stopped in all of his movement, forcing her to lift her heavy eyelids. His grey intense gaze had become dark in moonlight. Myra trembled, as his fingers began their torturous trek down her again. When he reached the damp place between her thighs Myra bit her lip to keep from crying out. Robb's eyes seemed to turn almost black as he rolled his hips against hers.

"Mmm…You're so wet already" Robb murmured thickly, spreading the dampness he found in her across her womanhood. He captured her lips in bruising kiss, swallowing the moan the escaped them as he plunged a calloused finger inside of her, his head collapsed against her shoulder "Gods! You're fucking so tight" his lips mashed against her skin as he added another stretching her by moving deeply in and out.

Her hips bucked against him. "Ugh! Robb…" Myra's entire body felt as though it were set ablaze. He was stroking at something inside of her and it was driving her half insane.

"Myra" he lifted his head, she had to keep her eyes open for him. Robb's nearly black gaze bore in to her now "you are so ready, I can't wait any longer…" he removed his fingers, she would have whined if not for what he did next. He drew his glossy fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. Myra watched with hooded eyes unconsciously licking her own puffy lips. Robb shuddered, as his gaze grew impossibly more hungry. His hips rocked against hers but this time she felt the tip of his hardness press against her folds. The muscles in her lower stomached clenched seeming to try to bring him into her, her legs wound around his body, pulling him closer.

He looked at her for a moment, before inhaling deeply and slowly easing his way into body. Myra gasped, adjusting to the size of him, but she thought the pain would be better if it was over and done with. Tighten her legs around his hips she spoke "Just do it Robb," he looked unsure "Please" she added wrapping her arms around her neck to draw him into a loving kiss.

And with quick inhale and lunge he did. The scream Myra let loose was partially blocked by Robb mouth covering hers. He pulled his lips away to lay kisses down her chin, "oh I love you, I love you" she could hear his voice through buzz of pain in her head.

She sucked in a breath and held it as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her fingertips digging into his shoulders. Myra tired not to move because doing so would make it hurt even more, she was clenching around him, trying to accommodate him.

"Myra" he voice sounded strained as he moved his lips over her skin, "try to relax, take a deep breath…" she tried to do as he instructed "I belong here…" he stated. And it was true as soon as he had entered her, even though the pain, Myra was aware that he felt right there. As Myra reminded herself of that she was able to ease the tightness in her body.

His mouth found hers as he began to sensuously grind his hips, forcing himself further within her warm depths she instead of pain she dampened with each thrust. Myra found that she kept opening wider and drawing him further inside her body the feeling of being completely filled was the best thing she had ever felt, and she want more of him as much of him as his could get.

She could herself pulsating around him, tightening as the intense pressure building in her body made her ready to burst. She thought he might lose himself inside him without even having to make another thrust, a thought that was not unwelcome. "Open your eyes Myra" he grunted into her mouth. As she pried her eyes open the wild look in his grey stare nearly made her close hers again, she felt herself spiraling closer to some dark abyss. There was sweat budding on forehead, his face was caress in obvious restraint. His hand slid down between their sweat slicked bodies to lingeringly touch the part of her that was throbbing to bring her closer to the edge of sanity. Myra's body seemed to move on its own causing her to arch her back, letting him sink in deeper.

"Gods!" Robb bellowed loudly all restraint gone, unmercifully lost all hold on reality, incapable of all reason. Frantically and savagely he began to ram himself inside her slipping deeper with each hard forceful thrust of his powerful hips. Like a volcano erupting, Myra felt his hot release invade her into her convulsing womb as they both cried out in rapturous fulfillment. Collapsing with all his weight upon her, she could feel him throb inside of her, giving her his life …. leaving her wanting more…

As she sensed he was about to pull she clung to his hips, and squeezed her walls around him instantly feeling him harden again. His teeth pressed into her right shoulder.

"Not yet…" she panted against his ear, still breathless and hungry from her recent height. "…again…" she rocked her hips forward.

He shivered, lifting his head again "You drive me mad, my little dragon" his hungry lips swooped down to plunder her equally ravenous mouth. Gasping for air when he pulled away her grey-eyed man spoke "You were made for me" he grinned wolfishly down at her, with a fiery look in his eye. Robb began swiveling his hips "and I will never let you go…"

She had no mind but to pull him into a kiss, as he rolled them over to devour one another again and again and, after a small rest, again. All under the watchful eye of the smiling weirwood.

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><p><strong>Whoa! Long… On to mid-terms…<strong>


	17. Chapter 17: Sharper than Blades

**Sorry for this week's posting, mid-terms have been crazy. I'll post Tuesday and Thursday this week and go back to normal next week. Sorry for editing, brain has become mush-like. Long…**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen – Sharper than Blades<strong>

Myra was fairly certain that she had over exerted herself, when she went to stand she felt a rush of pain between her legs. A cry left her kiss bruised lips, as she collapsed back against the mossy ground, clutching at the center of her pain. She felt Robb's large, warm hand press against her lower stomach, some of the pain dissipated away.

"Oh little dragon" he murmured "I'm sorry. I should have…"

"No" she tugged at his dark hair to pull him close to her lips, "I would not have forgiven you if we had stopped…" she smiled while his worried grey eyes scanned her face. She gave him a soft kiss, before asking "Could you help me stand?" he nodded, gently propping her up. Myra wondered at how she had not felt pain earlier but felt it so intensely now, her wonder was answered when, before she could protest, Robb knelt to help her put her shoes on and get dressed.

"Robb…" he looked up at her his eyes wide and shining in the moonlight. Myra felt a hot flush run through her body, her lower regions ached in a mix of soreness and desire, she knew how she had managed the pain now.

He clasped his hands against her bottom pulling her stomach to his sweltering mouth, "Let me just do this much, Myra" he seemed to almost plead, she could feel the guilt rolling off of him. Myra eased body, sighing in her approval for him to continue. She braced herself against his shoulders when he pulled away with a kiss from her belly to carry on dressing her. Myra's left thumb swept in gentle circles over his the scar on his right collarbone, he had been able to get his pants on before she fell. She felt glad to have him exposed under her eyes for as long as she could have him.

Robb finished with her shoes, leaning forward to nuzzle the softness of her stomach, she thought he may apologize again but he simply moaned "I adore the smell of me on you" he gave her skin a small lick, send shivers down Myra's already shaky limbs.

He stood up to carry on dressing her and then made her sit so he could finish his own. At some point, probably while Myra was being driven far too crazy to notice Silver and Grey Wind had turned up. When Robb had gone back to clothing himself, Myra saw the wolves and smiled at them as they moved closer to her. She reached out Grey Wind's head, stroking him "So you were ones howling…Whoa!" Myra had expected Grey Wind stop moving when her fingers touched him, but he kept moving until he lay over her stomach. Somehow the massive grey wolf had distributed his weight, so as to not crush her but his size had forced Myra to lay back. "Happy to see you as well my friend" Myra found herself chuckling as she ran her hand over his fur. Myra violet gaze met her own wolf's "You think you could help me girl?" Silver unhelpfully nuzzle Myra's face. "Thank you" Myra commented in defeat.

"Grey Wind!" Robb's commanding voice above them, called the large wolf to attention "Please get off of my wife."

Wife. That word struck Myra like a hammer on the head. She was Robb Stark's wife. Of all the names and titles she had known and would know, wife was the one she readily accepted. Myra took in a breath as the wolf moved and Robb crouched down beside her, placing his arms under her body clearly preparing to lift her.

"Husband" she unintentionally squeaked as Robb lifted her. "I could walk now…" The pain in her was fading steadily.

"Perhaps, my little dragon" he grinned, "but I like carrying you."

* * *

><p>Entering the camp with Myra in his arms, sent a very clear message, one that spread very quickly, as the Frey banner men suddenly swarmed around the couple and their wolves, demanding a defense for the couple's behaviour. Robb explained that she had gotten hurt, which was in a sense true as she recalled the pain she had felt in the forest. Myra buried her face against Robb's chest though she was uncomfortable with so many people staring at her, Myra gave him a squeeze before squirming reluctantly out of his safe hold, to give way for Robb to handle the angry crowd before him. But he would not let her get far, he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to his body.<p>

"This is my wife…Queen Myra" Robb spoke loud and clear to the series of stunned faces, more men from different banners had appeared by this time.

"Robb!" Myra heard Lady Stark's voice gasp from the mass of people.

"Before I have you accuse me of anything I beg you read this" he produced the roll of paper, handing it to one of the Frey men "from your Lord Frey…"

The stunned banner man, gaped at the note then Robb and at the mob of people next to him. He swallowed, unrolling the scroll "It says" the soldier began in a shakily voice. Myra felt Robb's grip tighten around her, though when she looked up his face was a stone mask of calm. "Congratulations to you and your bride and that his granddaughter, Roslin, will suit Lord Tully." The tension drained from Robb, and he met Myra's gaze, they must have looked out of their minds to the rest of the camp as they began laughing, filled with joy.

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><p>Robb had walked Myra back to his…their tent, they wrapped themselves around one another and in the morning he left with much moaning and groaning to deal with the lords and his mother. He had called Grey Wind but the wolf chose to stay with her and was resting his head against her stomach again as she lay on the mattress. She pensively stroked the fur on the yellow-eyed wolf's head. "What has gotten into you?" she asked the wolf.<p>

Groaning Myra sat up, deciding it was time to see the younger boys. Silver and Grey Wind trailed her as she entered the boys' tent. Rickon, Bran and Summer were there, Shaggydog had most likely gone hunting. There was another boy with brown hair, who stood up off of Bran's bed when Myra entered. The boy could not be much older than Bran, though he was short and slim for such an age, his unusually deep forest green eyes suggested a profound wisdom.

"Myra!" Rickon ran to her nearly bowling her over. Grey Wind rumbled in quiet disapproval, but seemed more preoccupied with guardedly watching the boy with green eyes. "Is it true? Is it true? Are you our sister now?"

Myra warmed at the thought, though she already saw the boys as something akin to brothers, they could legitimately regard her as a sister now "Yes" Myra smiled widely at the boys. "Hello" Myra added in greeting to the other boy "I'm Myra."

"Myra" Bran spoke up from his bed "this is Jojen of the House Reed." The boy, Jojen, bowed his head as Bran continued "he and Meera, his sister, are here with their father's forces from the Neck."

"Well" Myra smiled at the new boy, negotiating Rickon weight on her leg "It's a pleasure to meet you, any friend of the boys is a friend of mine…"

"Thank you Myra" the boy responded, Myra was taken aback by the boy informality, normally she would have ask for others to refer to her by her name but he did so without needing correction. "We are friends" Jojen's voice became heavy with meaning as his gaze shifted back to a clearly uncomfortable Bran.

Myra cleared her throat trying to break the mood that had settled over the tent, "Jojen," the boy's brown head turned, he waited patiently for her to carry on "if I may ask, why did you call me by my name right away?"

"You dislike the title of Queen and lady…"

"Ho…"

"As I was telling Bran and Rickon before you entered, I possess the ability of greensight…"

"Greensight?"

"It's true" Myra felt Rickon nodded furiously against her hip. He pulled away from her to walk over and point at Jojen, as Myra could not see him already "he can see the future, just like Osha said but he doesn't have an animal so he's not a warg…he can see the future even though he doesn…"

Sensing he was about to become repetitive in his speaking Myra cut him off "Thank you little pup. I'm sure Osha will be happy to know that you liked her stories so much" internally Myra scolded Osha for making the boys susceptible to believe such untruths.

"They are not stories Myra," Jojen piped in, speaking as though Grey Wind eyes were not fixed on him "I may not be the best at it but it is true. I would not risk telling you of my talent if you would not see yourself, soon enough…" He looked at Bran again.

"Oh!" All of the eyes in the room moved to the tent's opening to find Lady Stark surprised by the number of people in the tent "Hello…" Her blue gaze caught Myra's lilac one, Myra swallowed suddenly feeling the nervousness in her knees.

"Beg your pardon my lady I was just leaving, my sister must be looking for me" he nodded a farewell to everyone, adding to Bran "we will speak again soon" before he left past Lady Stark.

"Myra" the older woman began softly, "this probably good, I believe we should speak…"

"Yes, my lady."

"I will soon return my loves" Lady Stark, smiled at her boys before she left.

"She won't yell" Rickon offered as Myra breathed in deeply "she's scary even when she doesn't though sometimes…" he continued with a frown.

"Thank you little pup" Myra shook her head, as Bran left her with a sympathetic grin. "Thank you Bran."

* * *

><p>The wolves were wandering around the two women. Grey Wind was easier with Lady Stark and gave the ladies some space.<p>

Myra felt as though air was stuck in her chest, making her stand straighter than she would normally, she ventured a look at the older woman and quickly went back to averting her gaze. They had walked past the medical tent three rows down and kept walking past columns of tents. Myra knew she was breaking social edict, yet again, by speaking first to someone with a higher station, but she felt as though she were going to burst "My lady I…"

"As I see it Myra," Lady Stark turned them to walk back towards the row where Robb's tent sat "you've put my son in a precarious position, more so than with your discovery and arrival at Winterfell…I must admit that you have had an…astounding impact on my family…" Myra tried to keep up, she wished that they could sit down to talk as she did not want to miss or misinterpret anything Lady Stark was saying. "Robb has argued quite fervorently for you and the boys…" Lady Stark, finally stopped in her step and faced Myra, crushing the girl with the intensity of emotion in blue eyes "they owe you their lives" Myra began to shake her head "and so I owe you mine."

Myra stood stock still wondering if she had heard the fearsome Lady Stark correctly. "M-my lady you can…"

"I am not convinced of his reasoning for marrying you…you are fair, as many of the sane Targaryens have been…your hips seem good for baring children and you are young, but…" the older woman appeared to look for a reason for her son's marrying Myra, as though it may be imprinted on the girl's skin "something, something else I cannot quite get at…" she spoke her tone soft and contemplative.

"My lady, I promise you the reasons I have for marrying your son make no more sense to me than you. Only that since the moment I have met him, his has eased all of my aches, made me stronger, his joy is mine, his pain, his anger, his fear is all mine. I do not know how or why I simply know that it is meant to be. It is not Robb's title or the fear of Lord Frey or power that pulled us together so quickly. Nor was it the thought that Robb may die in the war that made us marry, indeed the thought had not even entered my reasoning, my lady..." Myra stopped for a moment, frowning, her eyes distracted as she thought of to go on.

Slowly she began speaking again "You see it is simply that I do not exist without him in my future..." Myra took in a weighty breath "...he must be there I feel it in the very marrow of my bones, and it for this reason we did it. The same reason that we both wanted to be together always, we've felt it even before either of us could say it and it's grown since that first night and it keeps growing."

Though Lady Stark's face had before hers the whole time she was speaking Myra could not see it, she felt as though she had blurted out everything she had said with blurred vision and a limp tongue. Now she tried desperately to remember what she had just said to the older woman.

Myra felt dizzy and a little sick as her vision came to focus, it was clear by Lady Stark's expression she had understood Myra perfectly, though Myra was still trying to recall all of what she had said. In Lady Stark, Myra could see a person who could be capable of the cruelty Robb described, but she was a person nonetheless and capable of feeling.

"As I said Myra I owe you more than you know. I have to believe that from that first change in Winterfell up to now you have influenced Robb for the better, by being in his life" something was cracking in the lady's voice "you helped Bran, helped me by what you told him, kept Rickon from being afraid and alone…" Lady Stark sniffed her eyes shining as she looked away from Myra. "You must know my family is everything to me, my husband's remains and my daughters are captured at King's Landing and I cannot express to you what means to have my youngest children and my eldest boy be so taken care of…" she sniffed again, and Myra felt an urge to wrap her arms around the breaking woman before her.

Instead she spoke as honestly as she could "You created it, it was impossible not to feel the warmth in your family Lady Stark…"

"You are in this family now. Please choose between Catelyn or mother, you must know I see you as a daughter…" she was cut-off as Myra hugged her.

"I am sorry Catelyn you said we are family, though I cannot call you mother but will treat as such and, you see, my mother always longed for hugs whenever she was feeling out of sorts…" Myra spoke with genuine emotion "I. Am. So. Sorry. For all you've been through…" Myra squeezed Catelyn, hoping she could feel the sincerity of her words.

Catelyn returned the hug for a moment, pulling away "Thank you Myra…" she gently wiped the hints of water brimming at her eyes as she turned and began walking towards the boys' row again, Myra followed as the red-haired woman continued speaking "I'm hoping that Bran will find in you again, what he saw once before…"

"How do you mean?" Myra could not see what Lady Stark was saying.

They carried on walking, though their pace slowed down "I'm not leaving for Riverrun with you and the troops tomorrow…"

"We are leaving?" Myra wondered why Robb had not mentioned it.

Catelyn nodded "... you and the boys' are… I am to go South with some of the Stark guard to try to parlay with…" she stopped herself short, and ventured glancing around "you do not know who may be listening…" Catelyn explained to Myra before forcing a cough and going on "... my leaving, this where the difficulty with Bran enters, I assume you've seen the man tied to the pole in the middle of the camp…the Lannister…" Myra nodded, intently watching Catelyn for signs of what she meant. "Robb said he that he told you of my suspicions regarding the Lannisters" Myra nodded again "he admited it, I questioned him and he said it, he said he did it…" Catelyn took in a breath calming herself, staring straight ahead as they walked, "he wouldn't say why, but I have to tell Bran…" the older lady chewed on her lip for a moment "don't I?... I do." She finished resolutely, Myra admired how Catelyn's frank manner, even when dealing with herself.

As they approached the boys' tent the wolves drew closer, and Myra spoke for the first time after thinking on how she felt about all of what Catelyn had to say. In the moment Myra could only find it in herself to be kind to Catelyn and push aside her own confusing feelings. "If you like," they halted just outside of the tent as Myra continued "I can call Rickon out to find Shaggydog, perhaps we will take a walk with Osha…" she smiled at Catelyn, who nodded appreciatively, patting her cheek before reentering the tent.

* * *

><p>Osha had offered to take Rickon back to the boys' tent when Robb, greeting Grey Wind with mock-bitterness, had appeared to bring Myra to dine amongst the lords. It took all Myra had not to jump on the man as soon as she felt his soothing presence and saw his warm grey eyes. Instead the newlyweds had simply accepted congratulations from Osha, while Rickon offered his blessing of Robb for Myra.<p>

Myra had tried to keep herself together on their way to the dining tent but his proximity affected her, it felt as though it had been so long, and he smelt so good. He had awoken a hunger in her, to the point where her body, her mind, her soul craved him. She dug her fingers in his hair, crushing him into a breath stealing kiss, Myra felt a familiar heat building between her legs. Robb responded with equal passion sliding his tongue into her mouth and growling when she gently sucked on it. They had murmured their 'I miss yous' some tents away from the relatively large tent where the lords ate and talked. Silver and Grey Wind collapsed atop one another just outside of the tent, close enough to act if trouble arose.

With a "Sorry little dragon," Robb reluctantly drew them into the bustling tent, "I'm here if you need me," his calloused fingers wove with hers, as he whispered to her "I love you". All of it was a blur even after Robb had introduced her to all of the men, Myra had trouble matching each of the names she had learned from all of her books to these real life faces. Following the polite chatter over the course of dinner, none of the lords appeared to be particularly interested in speaking to her, some even seemed to be fearfully avoiding any direct conversation with her, those who did look at her appeared to be searching in vain, for the same thing, the same 'reason' Catelyn had eventually seen in her earlier. As the lords began standing to converse in smaller groups, Robb stayed at the head table speaking with those he considered friends. For the most part though Myra was content to listen to the discussions Robb and other men were having none too politely with one another.

Myra also took the time to worry, Catelyn's seat at the table was empty. Perhaps Bran had needed his mother. The violet-eyed girl hoped that Bran was taking the news well. She also wondered why Robb did not say he was leaving, she wondered about what to think of Ser Jaime Lannister, she worried for Robb's sisters… her new sisters, she hoped that she had not hurt anyone. Just then Lord Edmure Tully crossed her fatigued view, Myra gave Robb's hand a small squeeze before practically chasing Lord Tully across the tent. She could feel her husband's steely gaze follow her every step.

Finally having reached him she grabbed the older Lord's arm to stop him from leaving, immediately releasing it when she realized the closeness of such contact in public "Forgive me Lord Tully, I did not want to yell at you over all of these people…" Myra felt her cheeks heat up, as her words fluttered out.

Lord Tully had his sister's red-brown hair and blue eyes, he also grew a fierce beard to match, but the smile he was giving Myra was kind. "No need to apologize, your grace."

"Please, Myra is fine I prefer it actually…"

"Of course, Myra. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for" she looked over at Robb, who was satisfied at her being safe and carried on his conversation with Greatjon Umber "us… it means more than you can know…" her eyes fell back on Lord Tully.

"I would do again in a moment truly, Robb has a great deal of love for you…"

Myra's felt warm again "I know he does, as do I…I hope you have not denied yourself…"

"Myra I promise you I would not have entered into such a contract if there was a shadow of doubt in my mind…and from what I hear Lady Roslin is uncharacteristically lovely. Does that help ease your mind?"

"To be honest, I do not think I will be totally at ease until I am sure that you are happy…"

"In time then…I thank you for your 'thanks'."

"Yes, sorry speaking to you about such a matter in a crowded place, but I just..." she stuttered, feeling more grateful than words could say "...I just had to tell you…"

"Of course Myra, we are family now." He smiled and excused himself with a small bow. Myra returned his warm grin and was about to trace her steps back to Robb, when she heard something, that made her turn.

"Whor…erfell…aim…" the pale Lord Roose Bolton of Dreadfort or 'the Leech Lord', who must have entered late, was mumbling in the corner of the tent closest to Myra and furthest from Robb. She did not need to be formally introduced to know who he was. From what she knew of the history of the North the Boltons were the primary antagonists of the Kings in the North. The man's appearance was famed and it frightened Myra. He seemed slippery, not with the same unintentional foolhardiness as Theon but rather by design. He was of average height and seemed a sturdy Northern warrior. It was his pasty skin, with his wide pale eyes that were eerie… except for the dark brown in his hair he seemed to be drained of all colour. According to Osha, who had been intrigued and startled by him as well, he had leechings every day because he thought it would keep him healthy.

He moved to stand before Myra, bowing deeply which caused Myra to blush and look about in embarrassment. Immediately her eyes searched for Robb, who was still talking to Greatjon Umber "Please my Lord, there's no need…"

Lord Bolton, snapped to stand straight up, interrupting her request. She swore that his eyes cut even more sharply than Jaime Lannister's. "Of…m…Qu…Wi..ell…"

Myra squinted trying to make out his words. "I beg your pardon, my Lord?" She politely offered in a gesture for to repeat what he said.

Which he did "Of…m…Qu…Wi..ell…" Myra shook her head, thinking perhaps it was her hearing, then realizing that it could not because everything else around her sounded clear. He was speaking quietly on purpose, but intentionally keeping his distance. Did he want her to move forward? Were his words so important she would have to succumb to his rules to hear them? The self-important look on his face told her that he had nothing to say to her and was playing with her. Myra sighed. This was precisely the sort of gameplay she had wished to avoid and that had made her so uncomfortable with the title of Queen. Her fear of him, began spinning into weariness and irritation as the fact was that she did not need to expose herself to such abrasive behaviour even if she was low born.

"Pardon me, my Lord. I must be going…" she brushed past him.

"My Lady!" she heard a sickly smug, clear booming voice call behind her. The men close by looked, Myra could feel Robb's grey eyes on her.

"Lord Bolton!" Robb's powerful voice sounded across the suddenly quietened tent. "Why in such a close space do you yell at your Queen so rudely?" Myra flinched at the word 'Queen'.

"Forgive me, your grace, but the rudeness did not begin with me…" Lord Bolton bowed his head slightly, as Robb's jaw and tempestuous eyes filled with tension. He looked about ready to snap, when Myra cut in.

"Lord Bolton" all of the eyes in the room turned back to Myra, who was trying to keep her knees from shaking, she felt utterly exposed. "I apologize for wounding you delicate penchant for manners, I did not know they meant so much to you, especially as you do not abide by the simple courtesy of speaking clearly yourself."

"I do believe I was speaking clearly, my lady. Quietly maybe but clearly nonetheless…"

"Even a whisper can be heard and spoken clearly Lord Bolton. What you were doing, my Lord, was mumbling incoherently. I have no time for such things…"

"You pass judgment quite harshly. I may have said something important…"

"Maybe but I doubt it. My mother always said that if they can help it or if they know better, people should not mumble every word that they say, as mumbling indicates two non-exclusive things about a person's character. One, that they are too cowardly to speak what they mean and two, that they are merely too dim-witted to understand what they are saying."

"Interesting words" he words seemed to cut the tension hanging in air, as they each stood their ground.

"They are. She also said that in any case mumblers should not waste their breath, as the world has little use for cowards and half-wits, such men will be spit out soon enough in due course making their mumbled words even more useless than they were to begin with."

"And which was she?"

"Neither, sir. She was honourable woman to her last breath. And with that I leave you sir. I have no spirit to create commotions where there need not be any. I hope you know I bear you no ill will." She moved to leave the tent, but halted at the entrance. She turned to face the occupants of the tent "I know I am your King's wife, but please address me as informally as you like, I can simply be Myra if you wish. All I ask is honourable conduct, that is what I know and it is what I am accustom to but remember I also know what it is to be human too, to have wants and live differently…" now that all of the words had flood out of her, Myra glanced around the tent nervously, she spared an apologetic look to a still wide-eyed Robb, unsure of how to finish "...um…so thank you" she nodded "I hope not to give another speech for some time…" she concluded awkwardly.

As she turned to leave, out of her periphery she saw Greatjon smack Robb on the back loud enough for her to hear the King letting out an "Oof…" even from outside of the tent.

"Now that is a woman of the North!" the great, bearded Umber's enormous voice bellowed out through the air surrounding the tent followed by the eruption of cheers and whistles.

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><p>Gods he could move fast and quietly, because the only warning Myra of Robb's presence was an intensifying of his scent, then his arms embracing hers as his face pressing against the back of her neck, "You're amazing" he groaned pulling her towards his hips. She had only reached Robb's tent moments ago, with Grey Wind and Silver, any uneasiness she may have had from the events of the day washed away.<p>

"I missed you…" Myra nearly began tearing his clothes off of his body, he did nothing to stop her, attacking her clothes, joining her frenzy "...all day…" she meant it. Myra had ached for the safe calm Robb offered her, she had ached in other ways too...

By the time they were fully undressed Myra was so on fire with desire she felt ready to be burned alive. Instead of pulling into her as he lay her on the bed, Robb kissed his way down her body, she whined at his delay in entering her body. "Robb…" she moaned, tugging at his hair trying to align his body with hers. He growled and nipped at her soft skin "Ple…" Myra stopped, suddenly hypnotized as he dropped to his knees before her, pulling her lower half up to his face, spreading her wider while sucking down the skin on the inside of her right , lifting her leg so that it draped over his shoulder. Myra could feel a tingling with anticipation as the most sensitive part of her folds were exposed to the man she loved. The way Robb stared at the center of her, made Myra want to wriggle way and cover up, though he would not let her.

"I missed you too" shocking Myra as his nose was nuzzled against her wetness.

"Ahh!" She cried as she felt his tongue run along her folds. Myra grabbed onto the hair of his head.

"You smell so good, Myra…" he licked her "you taste even better," Robb moaned against her heat.

She felt his hot tongue sweep across her wet sex in broad strokes "Ugh Gods!" Myra's mind began unraveling, as she gripped Robb's grinding herself into his mouth. She tried keeping her eyes open, she knew he liked that but she felt herself going more and more insane with each suck of his lips and swirl of his perfect tongue. Every muscle in her body began to tighten Myra's thighs trapped Robb's head between her legs as began to she convulse. She did not know what she cried out, but she was unable to say anything else for some time, though she jerked as Robb continued to lap at everything she gave him. Myra was surprised to find she had not ripped out his hair, and that he could still breathe given how forceful she was clutching in at his head.

As her body relaxed, he pulled away, licking his lips he spoke "Not done…" he eyes looked nearly black as they trailed up her still heaving body.

"Not done…" Myra shook her silver head, dropping her legs from his shoulders to pull around his waist "You've awoken a monster Robb Stark…"

Robb grinned, now braced over her "You've always been a little dragon…"

"Yours…" she added softly.

"Yes only mine. My little dragon…" he murmured capturing her lips in a sweet but passionate kiss.

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><p><strong>See, long…Again expect next chapter on Thursday, then back to normal.<strong>


	18. Chapter 18: Totem Lion

**Will edit over the weekend, just wanted to get the chapter up :) Last day for mid-terms!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen – Totem Lion<strong>

Myra nuzzled in to the warm chest her head was resting against. Her body was coiled around a fast asleep Robb. She knew, even without looking up, that her silver hair was piled above her head and pressed against his nose. She wished she could stay there forever, listening to his calming heartbeat, breathing him in. Myra wanted him to stay with her, she was still wrapping her head around the events of the day and her own actions. It was odd for her to switch between being overwhelmed by the people and the expanse of this world she entered to being overcome with a flood of emotion that resulted in brazen public expression. He was all she was certain of, Robb made her feel safe no matter where she veered off to.

The reason Myra had woken up during the night could not be ignored any longer, she had to relieve herself. Myra opened her violet eyes to see dark outlined shaped against the moonlight filtered through tent's canvas. She tried in vain tried to pull out of Robb's iron grasp. Considering their activities for the night Myra was pleasantly surprised by his strength, he had stamina and she could have gone on and on and on…but he needed rest for the next day, they both knew that…so the third and final time they had left some of the brutal desperation of their unadulterated passion and made sweet, tender love.

Myra wanted so badly to stay in his arms, but the more she relaxed into his presence, the more her bladder threatened to burst. She tried to move again, his grip tighten around her waist and he grumbled incoherently in unconscious protest. Finally she had to speak "Robb…" she murmured against his skin "Robb" she tried with more volume when did not respond.

"Yes, love" he muttered, in a sleep heavy voice.

"I have to go relieve myself…"

"No" he seemed to whine, pulling her impossibly closer to his body, not helping the strained state of her bladder.

"Robb…please…" Myra was anxious now, "I'll be right back…"

"All right, if you promise to be right back" his tone reluctant as inhaled the scent of her hair. She pressed a kiss at his chest, as he gave her a final squeeze and released her. She barely noticed his hooded grey eyes watching her as she frantically pulled on her shift. Silver had already woken up and moved to the opening of the tent, Grey Wind seemed about to follow suit.

"No" Myra stated sternly staring at the yellow-eyed wolf "Silver's enough. Stay. I mean it" with that Grey Wind almost against his will collapsed onto the ground as Myra and Silver hurriedly left the tent.

All Myra could think as she walked back down the row towards Robb's tent in the torch and moon lit camp was that she was ready to return to his arms, and spend as much time attached to him before he left her side again in the morning. As she neared the tent, Myra swore she heard something make a soft 'thwack' sound in the near distance. She looked down at Silver, whose head was tilted as well, confirming that sound was not in her head. Silver's violet gaze was directed at the large column of grass in the middle of the camp. Myra followed her wolf's eye line now definitely hearing the low neigh of a horse, she was shocked to see an arrow whizz by the gap in the column, to land with a 'thwack' against something.

Myra thought about waking Robb, but reconsidered when she realized intruders would be noticed by the guards posted around the boundaries of the camp, and that someone under Robb's rule would not harm her in the middle of the Northern camp. With this, Myra walked cautiously towards the column, where she was met with an unexpected sight.

"Bran!" Myra exclaimed. The young boy was sitting on a horse, with Summer and a torn looking Osha standing next to him. He was shooting arrows at Jaime Lannister, three were embedded in the wood above the man's blonde head. "Osha! What are both you doing?"

"Good evening my lady" Myra ignored the Lannister's smug call in the distance, as she stared intently at Bran and Osha.

"Myra…" Osha started, but was interrupted by Bran.

"It's not her fault I made her do it. You know what he did…" Bran's voice held a malice Myra had not heard in the boy before, though she believed it to be justified bearing in mind what Bran would have learned from his mother earlier in the day.

"And you would kill him for it?"

"Maybe…" Bran spat hastily "No…" he added softly "just scare, perhaps wound him…"

Myra knew that Bran's aim from the distance where he sat was nearly perfect, that his missing Jaime's head was on purpose. But that did not mean an accident was impossible. "You're a good shot Bran but…" Myra began, but was cut off.

"Please! I don't want hear you say anything about it. You don't know!" Bran's brown glare was fixed on Myra, and she could see he truly did not want to speak to her.

"Osha…" Myra's eyes shifted to the girl, who grimaced at her apologetically. "As your friend I'll ask you to take Bran back to his tent, and then go get some rest for yourself. Tomorrow will be busy" Myra smiled at the girl, to show she did not blame her for anything, honestly Myra felt that there was no blame to be assigned. Bran refused to meet Myra's eyes and stared pointedly away as Osha lead him back to his tent.

"Thank you young dragon." Myra turned to see Jaime smiling pompously at her.

"Do not call me that, Ser." She moved slowly toward him, from up close he was just a man.

"I beg your pardon my lady, I meant no offense. I only refer to what I see."

"Your eyes must be failing you Ser. I am a wolf…" She stopped just before him.

"My, my…that was quick. You seem to have shed your skin easily enough," he ran his eyes slowly and deliberately down Myra's body, pausing briefly at her light love marked shoulder visible with the cut of her shift. Sliver tensed at her side.

"Yes you could say that Ser. All that I was before I was a Stark fell away without so much as a second thought from me."

Jaime looked up at her, she could see that he was assessing… thinking on whether or not this girl was flirting with him or simply too dull to grasp his true meaning. He tested again to be sure "Yes well now I see you perhaps you're not a dragon, I'd be damned if you're not a like bird, I wonder how soon before you'll molt and be eaten again?"

She smiled at his wondering, "I know that you would have me be baited into arguing and being angry with you, but I tell you now it won't work. Especially not with you."

"I mean that much to you, eh?"

"No. It's not that at all, it's the exact opposite actually. You are not someone I feel for, you are so far removed from me that whatever you do to get an irrational rise out of me, will not work. I can see you as you are Ser, you hold no bearing over me."

"You like what you see I suppose?"

She shook her head. "But I recognize parts of you, and they give me some compassion for you."

"Compassion?"

"Yes." She crouched in front of him, to relive the man's neck for the strain of staring up, his eyes followed her. Her voice softened as she continued "You're just fighting for you own family now, aren't you? Like all the other men and women, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters… I may not know exactly why you did what you did, but I do know you are constantly fighting for the family behind that title you hold to so dearly…" he simply stared at her, eyes blank "you are someone's son aren't you?..."

His blonde head fell forward a fraction, in the beginnings of a nod, but he seemed to remember himself spitting out with scoff "What do you think?"

She continued, undeterred "And you are a brother?" he relented making a more noticeable movement with his head. Some of the blood that had dried against his left eye fell in a darkened chunk to land on his lashes in an obviously irritating way. She scuttled forward, speaking as she went, "I have brothers and sisters and have had more than one parent now too" when she was close enough she reached out pull the bloody chunk away from his eye. "When I think of those who die for trivial things, say… like power, I imagine what it would be to have my brothers or sisters or parents die in someone else's pursuit of it." She pulled the fleck of blood away from his left eye.

He blinked at few time "Forgive me if my eyes have failed me again, but are we not just now in your Lord Stark's war?"

"Yes, but you miss my meaning, I see nothing wrong with fighting to protect one's family and I see nothing wrong with living by a particular code of honour, which is perhaps where my compassion for your position comes in," yet another fleck of blood feel into his eye. She reached her arm out again. "I take issue with pushing for more than what is sufficient, but it… the understanding, comes from knowing that what you are fighting for is your name only. You will be like every other Lannister who died fighting for his name. Yes you are the Kingslayer" she began teasing the clump of blood away "but that will cease to be important as betrayals are typical of history and will continue to pile up, when you are dead and gone your betrayal will be counted amongst hordes of other countless betrayals of the world and you will be completely forgotten. I do not know why such pointless struggles for power and for power's sake occur when even if you are remembered in songs a thousand years from now, you will be dead and most likely unable to feel the love therein. If you are living now, why cause strife and pain where none is needed? Why not have a person truly love you, now as you are, for yourself so you know what it feels like?" she pulled the last bit of blood off of his eye. His green gaze focused in a sort of daze like state on her.

"My la…"

"I am not a fool Ser. I know why wars happen and unreasonable people seek power. I am no saintly thing, I too can be contradictory and act and speak without thinking. You pushed my brother from a window and attacked my father-in-law. What has happened has happened no one can change that and you did not know the price of such action. But you will now, if you ever feel the urge to test the bounds of my compassion I invite you to plan or try to attack my family again" Silver snapped her teeth from where she stood behind the girl. "However, I do not recommend it. Believe me no matter the reason it will be you and no one else who pays. I believe in honour and the King's justice so long as it is justice, but as I said I am no saint…"

"I…" he drew out the word as forest green eyes examined her thoughtfully, drifting to her shoulder again before he continued "was going to say that we appear to be mutually compassionate people, and now that you have finished my opinion has not changed. I only think you should meet my sister."

"I think Ser, as things stand I may just end up having to do that…" she paused thoughtfully, before her eyes flitted back to his forehead "Your wound will become infected if it is not cleaned. I will fetch some water and come back…"

"Ah! To be tended to by the sweet hands of Queen Stark."

"I could send for the battle doctor, who would just soon beat you as fix you…" Myra quipped in return.

"You know I have always had a soft spot for Queens…"

"From what I hear all you Lannisters have at least one soft spot that you'll admit to. I will return, come along Silver, stop threatening him please…"

When Myra came back to the tied up man he did not acknowledge her, only flinching when she nicked a particular sore part of his wound. Silver stood a small distance in front of Myra and Jaime, her violet eyes fixed on the blonde man. It was not uncomfortable, Myra felt as though she were doing fairly routine battle treatment with some warm water, a bandage, cloth and a bit of linen. He had been so sharp tongued and arrogant, but now his green eyes simply stared ahead, with his mouth clenched in an expression wavering between hurt indifference and anger. Once she had finished cleaning, she placed the linen on his wound and wrapped then tied the bandage around his head.

"Done" Myra stated with a smile, "have you eaten?" she asked stretching her arms above her head as she stood up, noting his silence she went on "I will take that as a 'yes'" she sighed, wiping her hands clean and picking up the bowl and now red cloth she had used. Myra looked down at his blonde head "Well, good night then." She and Silver began walking back towards the tents.

"Thank you" Myra heard a barely audible voice speak behind her, she turned around to see the Lannister determinedly looking the tents to his right.

"Well I couldn't let you die, now could I?" She responded and continued on her path with Silver down the familiar row of tents.

Myra peeked in on Bran, quietly calling his name from the entrance of the tent, though he did not answer and pretended to be asleep, Myra could practically feel the anger radiating off of him. She decided to leave it be for the time being. When she entered Robb's tent Myra placed the bowl of red water just inside the moon lit opening, as quietly as she could.

"What is that?" Robb's voice in the dark startled her.

"You're awake?" she caught her breath, as she moved towards his voice and Silver padded over to Grey Wind's form.

"I was getting worried" when she reached the edge of mattress Robb's large hands suddenly grabbed hold of hips, he quickly pulled the shift off of Myra's body. "You said you would be right back…" he pulled her down to lie on top of him, so that her legs straddled either side of his body and he was hugging her to his chest. She felt so small and secure folded into his large embrace. "Tell me…" he urged gently, as she nuzzled and softly bit at his neck. She told him everything, perhaps toning down Jaime's vulgarity and skimming over inflammatory comments to keep Robb from getting worked up, but she told him all of the truth in the exchanges that had happened.

By the end of it Robb was fully awake and though she had tried not to worry him, Myra could feel the tension in him building as he listened silently. "Robb?" she asked, trying to gauge his mindset. "Are you all right?"

He answered after a moment "Yes, little dragon, it is simply a lot to process and we must rest soon …" he a frustrated gush of air out through his nose and spoke "I do not pretend to understand why you are kind to that Lannister bastard… and I do not like you're being around him" Myra opened her mouth to respond but he carried on before she could speak "but so long as you are safe, you are free to do as you will" he sniffed out petulantly "though you know that I dislike it and that you are too kind for your own good. I believe you would be this kind to any prisoner we may have had…" Myra nodded.

"Robb?" Myra spoke softly after small silence.

"Yes, my love?"

"Do you really want to rule all of Westeros?" she asked quietly, as if she were trying to avoiding asking at all.

"I..." he began then faltered as though he was not sure of how to answer "Why do you ask, love?"

Myra shrugged, suddenly feeling extremely tired "The North is our home" she breathed against his chest "Winter is coming and I worry..."

Robb seemed amused and let out a small scoff "My little dragon..." he murmured, dragging her up his body so the flat of his teeth could press against her left shoulder "... I worry for you and I love you so..." He bit down, sucked and licked more forceful and sensuously than ever before, Myra felt her toes curl as her own body shuddered. It would leave a mark, she knew that he had made sure of that before drifting off to sleep.

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><p><strong>Yay! Shortest in a while.<strong>


	19. Chapter 19: Buried Scratches

**Hi! Hope the weekend went well for everyone (mine sure did, recharged with the help of a True Blood marathon… A big hurrah, for the much adored campy!)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen – Buried Scratches<strong>

It had been just over a week and a half since Robb had left Myra, she had tried to make herself heavy atop his body on the morning that they had parted, while he had tried to leave her in the same manner as he had done in Winterfell, which was to say as quickly as possible. Almost as though to protest his man's leaving, Grey Wind had tried crushing her again. Endeavoring to keep her safe while at the same time also attempting unsuccessfully to keep Robb with her or, at least, keep her with Robb. As Robb had left her, Myra felt her stomach turn itself over filling her with an overwhelming sickness she could not shake for days.

She could not sleep with the heavy weight in her gut and the fiery images that scorched her restless mind. It did not help that Bran had completely shut Myra out of his life, he had taken to ignoring her and avoiding any direct contact with her. On their daylong journey to Riverrun, and even when they had arrived at the castle, he had relied primarily on Osha's support and the company of the Reed siblings, which Myra was begrudgingly grateful for. She trusted Osha with Bran's well-being, but quite plainly Myra missed his company and felt as though she was letting down Catelyn's wishes by not helping Bran herself.

The Boltons, the Freys, the Reed children and Jaime had come to Riverrun with some of the Tully men, including Lord Edmure, who insisted on Myra calling him 'Uncle Edmure'. He was truly kind, and held a sort of air that reminded Myra of Maester Luwin. While she found the sense comforting at times, she was also disturbed by his familiar quality as it caused her to think of the Maester's fate and the sack of Winterfell; as such Myra often found herself having to excuse herself from Lord Edmure's company.

On her first day at Riverrun Lord Edmure and Catelyn's father, the sickly Lord Hoster Tully, had demanded that Myra and Myra alone be brought to meet him. The old Lord of Riverrun had been bedridden within the castle for some time, and though he was clearly physically weak, his excited mind jumped disjointedly from place to place. He went from embracing Myra as his new granddaughter, to excitedly wanting her approval for the crown he had forged for Robb, to talking about his youngest daughter's aborted pregnancy years ago, to reflecting on "Cat being a good girl", to asking Myra what her name was again and remarking on how she reminded him of someone that he once knew.

From their first, and as it turned out only, meeting Myra had found the progressively weakening Hoster Tully to be a man who held an undeniable thirst for life with an once acutely sharp mind that had been painfully affected by age and illness. Though she like liked him Myra had not enjoyed unwittingly intruding on what she had felt to be the private moments of his life; especially as some of the information that he had shared with her in such a short time had not appeared to be what one would ordinarily divulge to even their closest acquaintances.

The crown that he had ordered to be made for Robb was an open circlet of hammered bronze wrought with nine black iron spikes in the shape of longswords; the bronze was engraved with the runes of the First Men, who were the first people to land in Westeros and the only people to meet the Old Gods. One would not have been able to assume the old Lord's deteriorating mental state with the crown being so entirely elegant and oddly regal in its tasteful simplicity.

Nonetheless, in spite of its modesty in craftsmanship, Myra had not wanted to touch the thing, she had wanted to recoil as far back away as possible but she could not refuse the ailing, well intentioned Lord Tully when he had presented it to her. In her hands she could feel that it held the weight and strength of a powerful title both in shape and actual mass. Myra's only observation had been that it looked to be too large for Robb's head, to which the old Lord Tully had responded positively. In a practical manner he had explained that the band was sized to sit just at Robb's forehead so that it would not unexpectedly slip off.

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><p>Alone Myra suffered the slow burning pain of a hole in her head, in her heart, in her body, her soul where Robb would fit, alone it grew to engulf her until she felt as though she was drowning in fire again. She had found that when looking at her reflection in a mirror or while letting her mind wander, she would become hypnotized by physical stain left on her shoulder if she let herself be. He was in her, on her, fused in every wistful part of her. Without her Robb, without Catelyn, Bran, Osha or Rickon, who had taken to shadowing 'Uncle Tully', Myra was left to her nauseating thoughts of Robb twisted and ruined in some bloodied, battle torn field. In Winterfell at least, Myra had a choice of distractions, from hunting to the company others, here she was the victim of her merciless thoughts.<p>

Walking through the halls of Riverrun with Silver, Myra had heard the going-ons of the place. Since her last encounter with the ghastly Lord Bolton and her difficult position with the Freys, many of the bannermen had avoided speaking with her. Though, Myra would happily have given Lord Bolton a chance to improve his impression on her and she would have gladly taken a chance to improve the Frey men's opinion of her. But as it had stood Myra wandered the drafty halls and had been able to overhear Lord Bolton become angry at Lord Edmure for allowing the Lannister forces to pass, largely unchallenged, through the Riverlands. She had silently and secretly agreed with Lord Tully that the Lannister forces in their rush to reach the Westerlands would not have stopped to invade Riverrun again, though they might have tried to do so had they known that Jaime was being held at Riverrun.

Jaime… on their journey he had dropped any notion of being demure and made a particular point of trying to provoke Myra. She all too readily had responses for him, trying in turn to tease out the possible good in him. "You know dragon, you remind of a bird that would not stop chirping annoyingly in the rafters by my window at Casterly Rock…"

"I am not a dragon. How would you like it if I called you…you Jim?" Myra had messily replied. The only thing which had bothered Myra about his attempts to upset her, were his references to her as 'dragon', for some reason the title had not made her feel strong or warm, as when Robb said it, instead it had reminded her of the Taragyen past she was trying to constantly distance herself from.

"You… that's what you are…" he had grinned, green eyes piercing and white teeth flashing against the grime covering his skin "an annoying little birdy, squawking away at me…"

"And you know what?" she had smiled at him, happy and impressed with the response that she had conjured up for herself "You really are a Jim" she had lingered long enough by the wagon that he was being transported in to see his face drop into a scowl, before riding ahead on her horse.

Jaime had become something Myra had not intended on. Upon arriving in Riverrun, he was taken to the dungeons. She had discovered this from Lord Edmure the day after they had reached Riverrun and she had met Lord Hoster. Myra had inquired after Jaime, worried about the chance of infection festering in his injury. Learning that he was being held in the damp dungeons had done nothing to ease her fear of his wound becoming diseased. If Jaime died not only would Robb lose his bargaining chip, and therefore his chance to have his sisters back, but someone would have had died without reason while Myra could have prevented it. She could not live with that on her conscience and she had not needed any more perturbing thoughts ruining her sleep patterns.

Lord Edmure had reluctantly allowed a Tully man to lead her down to the guarded cell, with the proviso that she kept Silver with her and did not make a habit of visiting the Lannister. As she and her guide, Tomas, had descended towards the windowless dungeons, lamps in hand, it became even more bone chillingly cold than the rest of the castle. Riverrun was not heated like Winterfell, Myra nearly always kept Robb's cloak on her shoulders for comfort as much as warmth within the Tully walls. The torch lit corridors had led to a guarded wood and iron door with a small square hole cut into it, from which to see into the cell.

"Well," Myra had heard a lisped, raspy voice as she entered the dark chamber, lamp first "…if it isn't the birdy here to pester me again" her violet gaze landed Jaime's bruised face. His lip had been sliced open by an obvious blow to his face, his left eye was swollen so that he could not blink and the wound on his forehead had been reopened, judging by the red-stained bandage. "What's today's lesson dragon?" he had slurped against the cut on his lip. Myra had not doubted that his most recent injuries were the result of that mouth and the arrogant brain attached to it.

"Just be quiet a moment…" Myra had been focused on taking in the barren room before her. She had spotted a small pile of hay next to him, which was useless as he was being forced to sit up on the cold floor with his hands chained to the far wall of the cell behind his back. There was nothing else, save a few crusts of mouldy bread and a small cup of water, which he must have been hand fed inadequately. She had not forgotten what he had done, but Bran's life was no longer in immediate danger and there was no cause for such brutality on their or her part. She felt Silver brush into the cell behind her, which had jolted Myra to act. "You there!" she had called to the men outside of the cell, from her place by the door. "Tomas!"

"Yes, my lady?"

She would have corrected the man, but in that moment she had not been overly concerned about names. "Please fetch me some warm water, a cloth, a bandage, some real food and a blanket and please tell Lord Edmure I have to speak with him…" Tomas had bowed his head, "Thank you…" Myra stated, though she had not missed the quizzical glance that the guide cast at the cell guard before he left. Her eyes had landed back on Jaime, who was vigilantly being watched by Silver. "Gods…" Myra had breathed.

"That good huh?" Jaime grinned, then hissed as the cut on his lip had pulled and the muscles of his clearly sore face had moved.

Myra had shaken her silver-haired head, while she moved to kneel by him. "Better. If you can imagine…" she had commented wryly as she set the lamp down on the ground and gingerly began removing the bandage she had tied around head. And that as was the beginning of her peculiar relationship with Jaime Lannister.

As Lord Edmure had no evidence to rightfully accuse anyone of abusing Jaime and had refused to move him from the dungeons or unchain him from the wall, Myra had taken to visiting Jaime each day to make sure that the men did not beat him and that he was fed. Relatively quickly the trips built up to become longer and actual lengthy conversations occurred… from dragon to Birdy, from Jaime to Jim, the insults had started transforming into plain banter.

Myra would bring more blankets to sit on, as she had found herself wanting to talk with Jaime, he gave her someone to speak to, other than Rickon and kept her from becoming lost in the depths of her pain; and perhaps out of desperation, as he had no else to interact with, Jaime had humored her. The diversion did not work totally though, she continued to be haunted by grey eyes and fire when she was alone in the dark quiet of her mind; that was when Myra felt the weakening sickness sweep through her all over again. So even when their conversations petered off she was glad for the distraction in quiet company and felt comfortable sitting in silence, with Silver's head resting against her leg, until one of them began again. Sure enough, subject by gradual subject, she began chipping away at him and he was chipping back in return.

She had learned that he had not seen his little brother since leaving Winterfell, and that he clearly worried for him, though he did not explicitly say so. Instead he said he would have killed Ned Stark not because his brother was a Lannister but because his brother was his brother, but when Myra informed him that Lady Stark had not taken his brother to begin with, he allowed that it had been for the best that a white cloak had interfered before Lord Stark was too badly hurt. Though in the end it had not mattered, and Jaime had hastened to vaguely attest that Joffery was a fool, a boy more like his father than he had actually realized.

She had also learned that Jaime had held no stock in the rumours of her existence, until he saw her and her distinctly Targaryen features. Myra once again quickly corrected him, this time with his theory of the Stark's intentionally harbouring her in the North, telling him of her secret and isolated existence in the snowy Northern woods with her mother; though she did not feel the need to tell him of her mother adopting her or apparent the rape of her biological mother.

On a day that he particularly longed for some whiff of the outdoors he spoke of cliff diving at off of the craggy rock faces on the shores at Casterly Rock. She swore that his eyes literally lit up as he described his first true campaign as Ser Arthur Dayne's squire, at the age of fifteen against the Kingswood Brotherhood and fighting the Smiling Knight himself, who according to Jaime was the size of horse. He had not killed the huge man. Ser Dayne, who Jaime clearly held an immense amount of respect for, had slain the Smiling Knight and had subsequently affirmed that Jaime had nonetheless won his promotion to knighthood. He talked of winning numerous tourneys and the sense of accomplishing something when he did win.

She mentioned how his external achievements filled him with joy, she found it interesting how she had never had such things but that she too had found joy in her relationships… his expression had changed and he had become quiet. Myra had realized she had somehow offended him when she had not meant to do so, there was something deeper about it this time and she apologized feeling truly horrible. He had shrugged, looked away and moved on.

During a moment of quiet, on another day, she had raised her head to see him staring at her, he had commented musingly on how she looked nothing like Rhaegar Targaryen but not quite like the Mad King Aerys either. Myra felt it had been important to clarify that she had no desire to know to whom she belonged to in that family as far a throne or power was concerned, though it could eventually be interesting know, she did not need the information…she had loving mother, she had a loving albeit at times complicated family and she did not want the authority of a throne.

After a pregnant moment Jaime had responded without sarcasm, showing shared sentiment as he described his own experience of denouncing the wealth and title of being Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West in order to be in the King's guard instead. He seemed to be annoyed by the inability of others to see how there is generally a reason for a person avoiding power and usually more than one uncomplicated motive for a person's actions. Over the course of that fifth day he had spoken, though often under his breath and more to himself, of the paranoia and insanity of court life and absolute rigidity of protecting the King.

That day Myra saw in Jaime the same sort of contradictions she saw in herself, she was well aware that it was not always easy to reconcile what one felt they should be and what one truly was or wanted to do and be. Both saw the import of power and what advantages of holding it were, but at the same time they both recognized and held disdain for what it could do to people... for what it made people do. The value he placed on his sense, or at least his reputation of houour, had made Myra think a part of him would be suited to the Northern lifestyle. He had scoffed at that suggestion stating that the only time he would ever accept life in a barren wasteland would be when he died.

On the seventh day since Myra had parted from Robb, something in the tone of her discussions with Jaime had been altered. He had healed a fair amount, the swelling of his left eye had gone down and he could open it, though the white of his eye was still irritated and had remained red. They had both gotten rather pale, with spending so much time in the dark. This day the pair had been sitting on a cushion of blankets next to one another, leaning against the far cell wall in one of their silences when he had inhaled sharply, green eyes directed away from her. "You know Birdy" he began quickly then all of sudden slowed down his pace "…when you talked about feeling someone's love...having it…"

Myra had felt a pulse from Robb's mark on her shoulder and within her stomach that had simultaneously filled her with relief as well as longing. "The night I threatened you?" She had tried to focus on sifting through her memories of that night. It had not been difficult to force herself to be distracted, so much had occurred in the past few weeks and months that Myra could not always believe that all the events happened, let alone that they could all fit into such a timeframe.

Jaime had nodded his shaggy blonde head, as he continued looking away "I do. I mean I have someone who does…" he had spoken slowly, sounding so vulnerable Myra had been certain his voice would break. She had genuinely been shocked that he was speaking in such a bare way to her.

"Really?" was all she had been able to say. Myra had not been sure what the right thing to say could have been... if there even was right to say. "Well Jaime, I'm happy for you."

Obviously he had not detected the sincerity in her voice as his head had snapped to face her. Silver had growled at the sudden roughness in his expression. Between his bearded face and long hair he had really begun to look rather like a fearsome lion. "She does." There was hard, severe edge to his green glare and to the determined tenor of his voice.

"And I'm sure that you two have a truly wonderful relationship, _Jim_, with you being a 'celibate' member of the King's guard and all," she had quickly retorted to the unfairly harsh tone of his reaction. Jaime had seemed to been trying convince her of the truth in his words, but something about his instantly defensive reaction had Myra questioning his own conviction.

His brow furrowed as what she had said sunk in. Myra's violet eyes had been thoughtful as they scanned his face, she had decided she did not want to create anger where it was not needed. It seemed that he had not wanted to be angry either, as he had thrown his head back and started laughing "…King's guard…of course…" he had choked out between his laughing, tears had formed at the corners of his green eyes. Myra had chuckled along as well, not entertained by his position given the restrictions of his vows, but rather a part of her had been glad to see such a side of him. As his laughter had died down, Myra could feel the bittersweet taint to his emotions and she knew that something had changed in him, in her, in their understanding of one another.

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><p>Now at a just over a week and a half since Robb had gone away and since Bran had stopped speaking to her, Myra sat against a stone wall, next to Jaime Lannister as at home as ever. Tensions had been high as two days ago, having somehow had word of Jaime's being in Riverrun, Tyrion Lannister as Hand of the King had sent terms for peace and trading for his bother from King's Landing. The Lannister forces had passed too far past Riverrun to return for Jaime at that point and so the task of retrieving Jaime fell to Tyrion.<p>

Two days prior to the arrival of the peace terms Lord Edmure had sent the Bolton, Frey and some of the Tully forces to follow the Lannister troops into the Westerlands under the charge of his most trusted and respected captain. Lord Edmure had chosen to stay behind to command the remaining household guard at Riverrun, he was clearly uneasy about the association developing between Myra and Jaime.

His staying at Riverrun had turned out to be for the best. Lord Edmure had rejected the peace offer on the day that it had arrived, for what he promised to be legitimate reasons, and that very night the men sent with the terms from King's Landing had attempted sneak into the castle and break Jaime out. They were caught before they could get to Jaime, it had ended violently to say the least. Lord Edmure had been even more insistent on Myra's staying away from Jaime, but she had argued that Jaime held no part in the actions of the men from King's Landing and that he was still a harmless captive.

And so it was that the odd pair sat wordlessly with Silver in the dark cell, until Jaime broke the quiet "What do you want from me Myra?...why do you talk to me?"

"You're asking me to explain something to you?" she raised a silver-blonde eyebrow, looking at him.

"Believe me as much as it wounds me to admit it," his lips quirked in a small smile, before he continued "…I cannot figure it out. I need to know…"

Myra took a second glancing at Silver for before stating "Believe it or not Jaime, I enjoy speaking with you… and with Robb gone you are only who calls me out on what I say…I am sure you agree it is nice to be challenged from time to time…"

"And…why do you not abuse me as others would have you do? Why do you defend me? I have done nothing but insult you and try to hurt you…" he said his eyes fixed on his feet.

"Jaime" Myra began with a sigh "I think that you are more than what you let yourself think you are... I mean you are arrogant to the point of being obnoxious but, if you think that I should be letting you get punished then you must not think very highly of yourself. I know that you can change... that you think you should be different, and I cannot judge you on your past actions when I see in you the desire and the capacity to be different… you have been nothing but a broken man before me, I think you should at least be given the opportunity to prove me personally wrong once…"

"That is the fast way to lose a kingdom…" he huffed out under his breath.

"Perhaps, but as I have said you did not know the consequences of your actions with me, you did not know what I would do to you… now, for the future, you do and as far as the kingdom…" Myra felt Robb's mark tingle as she took a minute to order her thoughts "… a realm composed of unjust rulings is doomed to fail, the past kingdom has shown that…"

"You say you won't judge based on the past but you reference the past all of the time…" something in his voice reminded Myra of Rickon as he trailed off.

"Well, of course I do Jim!" she exclaimed though her tone was clearly a joking one, as she tried to lighten the mood in the dank room "It would be foolish not to learn from the past, but becoming stuck there would be just as foolish. If I knew that you had no possibility of changing we would not be speaking as we are now, but you have… you are not trapped where you were, not anymore. You may try to deny it, but you do feel it, do you not?"

"I…" instead of joking or sneering he turned his head to pensively meet her lilac eyes, speaking softly "…I think, Birdy, that you are the only person who can see that in me… "

Myra scoffed lightly, wearily resting her head on Jaime's shoulder, "Maybe the first Jim, but not the only…"

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><p><strong>Hmmm…. Que pasa con editing? :D<strong>


	20. Chapter 20: Lonely, Lonely Wolf

**Hi edited some parts of 18 and 19 so...yeah...**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty – Lonely, Lonely Wolf<strong>

'Do you really want to rule all of Westeros?'

Did he? Her words stuck in his mind, coiling around each of his thoughts like a muggy smoke. On the morning that he was to leave he had woken up to welcome warm weight of her on top of him, he had gently run his fingers over the soft curves of her body trying to commit to memory and absorb every bit of her that he could. If he thought back to it he could still feel her soft heat as clearly as he could hear her question... she had not asked whether he could but rather what his own desires were. Robb had been gone away from her for just over three weeks and since then, almost immediately upon leaving her, Robb felt himself tear apart. He had left some piece of himself with her, and he ached to be close to her so that he could feel whole again.

Gods he would never get enough of her, she set his soul on fire … she was made for him…and just him…

Every morning since he had become one with her, he had woken up extremely stiff. Though this had been occurring on occasion since his Myra had entered his life, Robb had not woken up hard as a board every single day since the first six months of his sexual maturity. By the time he was fourteen he was a man by the standards of the North as well as by the standards in the brothels outside of Winterfell. He had assumed, having had satisfied his early adolescent urges and then some, that he had finally gotten a manageable hold of the situation by his later years. But here he was, a man waking up frustrated, more by the fact the Myra was no longer there to help him with his problem in the mornings any more than anything else. He had quickly become familiar with the somewhat unpleasant feel of thick liquid on his own hands in the morning. All he had was the memory of her taste and smell and sounds and love… which was more than enough for him to find release but, much like her favour of silver-gold hair that he carried, it was a poor substitute for the real her.

Even from miles away he could feel violet fire turning him inside out. Her scent seemed to hang in the air around him, a constant aphrodisiac that he wanted to bathe in and cover himself with. He had become addicted to feeling at home in her, waking up next to her, talking with her… Though alone he could manage the physical consequences of his desire, his true pain lay with being away from her. Robb missed her input on his thoughts and doubts, as such in most matters he found himself thinking of what she would do or think or say in a given scenario.

As predicted the Lannister forces, including Lord Tywin, had arrived to defend their homelands just over a week and a half ago. Robb was not one to gloat, but Greatjon was more than happy to do so, on both Robb and Grey Wind's behalf. Though the men saw glory and all Robb saw were lifeless bodies piled upon lifeless bodies. Following the defeat of the Lannister men, who had been trying to rebuild their numbers at the relatively obscure location of Oxcross, Robb had quickly moved on to sack the more major castles surrounding the Golden Tooth. When the Tywin Lannister finally decided to abandon his post in the East, he was met with no support from the crushed West and was surprised by the additional Northern forces following his army from the Riverlands. Upon his capture Tywin's sharply sour face set into a mask of acidic hatred and he refused to speak to Robb. His eyes like cold chips of glass and mouth in firm line had remained unmoved during the course their entire first meeting. Robb knew that the point of Tywin's demeanour was to threaten and frightened him. But all Robb could see was a man, acting much as grumpy child, refusing to speak to his parents after being punished. It made Robb want to laugh, it made him want to tell someone who would understand, it made him want to tell Myra.

When the troops from Riverrun arrived without his uncle, Robb had been perturbed by the blatant disregard of his orders. However, the Tully captain had given him a letter from his Uncle Edmure, explaining why he chose to stay in Riverrun. The older man had taken it upon himself to send a small garrison of men under Roose Bolton to Harrenhal in case Tywin had left any of his men there and from Riverrun he could more easily supervise such an action. Robb could not bring himself to hold any fault with his uncle's decision, in fact he thought the defensive security tactic was a brilliant move on his uncle's part. This news was not the only thing to arrive from Riverrun… Robb's men were far more preoccupied with the crown sent along with the strategic news. Robb had held the bronze circlet in hands, his uncle had stated that Myra had found no fault with it, and Robb could see why; it was honest, solid, unpretentious in its design.

Greatjon, in particular, had become impatient with Robb's pace, declaring that ceremony had already been forgone the large man grabbed the band out the young King's grasp and placed it atop Robb's head as his battle mates cheered. And there it sat heavy but not burdensome, constantly noticeable but not uncomfortable, of everything he had to come to terms with in his sudden rise to power, Robb had found the crown's weight one of the easier things to adjust to.

Having Tywin Lannister held at captive in the West by the more than battle able and loyal heir to the Bear Island, Lady Maege Mormont with her eldest daughter Dacey, Robb made his way towards King's Landing. With Tywin in such a weakened position in the West, the road to King's Landing was largely free, the sellswords that the Northern forces encountered quickly abandoned the Lannisters when they realized that they would likely not be paid. Grey Wind had become larger and stronger with each passing day, which also aided in terrifying the wits out of easily wobbled men.

But beyond that, since leaving Myra and Silver, Robb's wolf had become more vicious on the battlefield and increasingly irritable as they travelled further into the stifling Southern climate. Robb too found himself mirroring Grey Wind's disgruntled attitude, he felt conflicted and, though less so now, at times without the resolute guidance of his father he felt alone in his decisions and their consequences. With each step he took towards King's Landing Robb could taxingly hear in his head: 'Do you really want to rule all of Westeros?' However, as he neared the walls of the golden city another refrain, one that made the essence Myra had burned into his soul itch, began to fill Robb's mind. It was an assertion, that when flooded with anger at the death of his father, Robb had uttered to his mother while she had comforted him: 'I'll kill them all.'

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><p>So it happened that over nearly four weeks since leaving the Riverlands, Robb arrived with his host at King's Landing. Since leaving the West for this Eastern home of the Iron Throne much had happened to change the footing of the players in the game of Kings. Robb's mother had clearly failed in finding an alliance with any of the Baratheon brothers, as the two siblings became increasingly bloodthirsty in the following days. Stannis, the elder of the bothers had sent word to so many sources in the South and West and soon enough news crept to the North, so that no one was able to ignore the claims of Queen Cersei's children being fathered by someone other than the late King Robert. The elder Baratheon went so far as to name the Kingslayer as the children's true father, not only marking them as bastards, but bastards of incest, no less. Stannis had laid siege to King's Landing and without Tywin's aid Joffery's forces in the city had been hugely depleted. However, Stannis had been caught unawares by an attack from the wedded forces of his younger more charismatic brother, Renly, and House Tyrell.<p>

Then suddenly a standstill occurred, as Renly had been mysteriously murdered; Renly's Baratheon army had gone to Stannis and in turn been attacked by the newly joint Lannister-Tyrell forces, who were tied not only by years of history but also a new promise of marriage between Joffery and Lord Renly's recent widow, Margaery Tyrell. Between the Riot of the poor in King's Landing and the Battle of Blackwater any strength in arms within the houses surrounding King's Landing had been severely ruined; many men had been lost as and once loyalties had changed.

As they passed the shanty settlements far beyond the walls of the city, the Northern troops could smell and had retched at stench of what had to be the city's waste; but had reacted to not much else, they had no whiff of a challenge as they immensely outnumbered the remaining defenses. Upon Robb's arrival at the Gate of the Gods at the west of the city Queen Regent Cersei and King Joffery had no choice but to accept the offer of parley that he gave. If Grey Wind had shown dislike for the South before, it was nothing compared to his tension within the walls of the city. Though his wolf did not act out of turn, Robb could sense his agitation at being in such a place.

It was an uneven mix of the lush and decadent with the tough, the dirty, the smelling and the unsightly; all patched and thrown together by people who clearly felt no connection to, felt nothing for, the land they lived in or came from. As he took in the unfamiliar city Robb wondered at his father's ever choosing to return to it; of the wolves possibly Sansa, maybe Bran, could survive in such a place for a time but this world was clearly no place for a Stark of Winterfell. He was no fool, before even entering to walls of the city Robb made it abundantly clear that should anything happen to him both Jaime and Tywin would suffer for it. Though Robb's opinion of Tyrion Lannister had improved when he had helped Bran, Robb still did not trust him completely, and trusted his sister even less. So, with a third of his forces, Robb nearly overwhelmed the city streets though Tyrion was clear that no harm would come to him or his men. Moreover Robb did not go all the way to the Red Keep at the east most edge of the city either, instead he stopped at city's centre and refused to move until Tyrion, who was sporting a grisly facial wound that had removed most of his nose from the Battle of Blackwater, and eventually Joffery, Cersei and their council came out to meet him.

Seeing crown on Joffery's pin of a blonde head was in all likelihood the most revolting thing Robb had ever seen, even after the battles and blood, even directly next to Tyrion's severely slashed face. As his grey eyes followed the crowned man-child monster Robb could detect the truth in Stannis' claims, the boy looked nothing like Robert, meaning that Robb's father may have died for proclaiming the truth. Robb's jaw set in a firm line as he sat, with Grey Wind and his council banners, facing the three seated blonde heads with the runt-boy swine in the middle. Robb had tried to glean as much as he could in regards to those whispering and pulling the strings behind Joffery. From his study Robb recognized Varys "the Spider", Petyr Baelish also known as "Littlefinger" and Grand Maester Pycelle gathered behind the wretch of a boy.

"Well," Tyrion began, exclaiming "how the mighty have become mightier! It seems, Lord Stark, you can neither give nor accept hospitality…"

"I have known too much of past Southern hospitality to take it blindly now myself…" Robb spoke thinking of his uncle, grandfather and his own father.

Robb head turned sharply, when he heard a snicker from Joffery's wormy little mouth. The boy stopped the noise, though his smile remained when he met Robb's steely gaze. "I sent terms of peace to your Uncle, not five days ago…" Tyrion attempted keep the tension below boiling point.

"Yes, well we figured you would hear our terms much better with your father held where he is now" Robb stated, his stare lingering on Joffery for moment before sliding back left to look at Tyrion, who no longer wore an entirely smug expression.

"I fully understand…you did not trust in the clout of your strength" Tyrion quickly responded.

"You are mistaken, I do trust our strength but more importantly I know the strength of the North," his gaze flitted to Joffery "…your brother" Robb focused on Tyrion again "has already tried to bait me into a show brash champion combat under the guise of honour…"

Now Cersei scoffed to his right, drawing Robb's attention, when he looked at her properly Robb could detect the newly carved weariness in her face and the slow, but clearly aided beginnings of an ungraceful aging around the corners of her mouth and eyes.

"Yes I found it amusing as well" Robb continued unfazed, "that anyone with Lannister blood may be able fight off a wolf at all" his burning grey eyes now fixed on Joffery, as he clearly referenced the direwolf tragedy on the Kingsroad. "But as I said I trust my strength and know it too. And now you do as well, it would suit your futures not to forget it…"

Robb's words held the them in silence for a moment before Cersei finally spoke "Speaking of futures and my brother..." her as voice smooth as silk yet filled with malice "you are here to offer terms, offer them then…"

"Yes, you have our ears with _our _brother and father… " Tyrion piped in.

"We," Robb gestured to the lords on his council "have come to an agreement on terms of peace." He took a breath as he began, "The North will have ruling Kings of Winter again and will never be at the whim nor attacked by those who sit on the Iron Throne ever again. House Lannister and the Baratheon's of King's Landing will not raise arms or plan to attack the House Tully nor any of the Houses and lands pledged to the North."

Tyrion opened his mouth as though to speak, but was cut off by Robb "I'm not done, Lannister." He stated firmly. "If it comes to it the Northern Kingdom will aid the Iron Throne if it sees fit, if the cause is found to be just or when it is in a position to do so…when Winter Comes" Robb added of his own accord, suddenly recalling the man who his father had executed for abandoning the Night's Watch, "we will see how to act. Should something stir from beyond the Wall" he saw Tyrion's eyes shift to become grave "it may be that we in the North will expect the same neighbourly courtesy of aid."

With that Robb continued with the terms agreed upon by his Northern banners "Any man will continue to be welcomed to the Night's Watch, extradition of criminals will occur depending on where a crime is committed, those who flee South for a crime done in the North will be tried by the laws of the North no matter which House they belong to and vice versa. If you wish exile someone there is the Wall or there is Essos, the Northern people will not house those who would give cause or give rise to tension between the two kingdoms." Robb made sure to pass a meaningful glance to each of the three before him. "And of course the Iron Throne will have no claims to taxes, incomes, nor service from my people, and release those of the North with oaths of fealty, vows, pledges, debts, and obligations owed.

Any notable house marriages crossing borders will obviously have to be sanctioned by both Kingdoms. And trade routes north to south will remain as they are, and are not to be disrupted. Naturally, as Lannisters have a penchant for funding arms, we will take five high born hostages mutually agreed upon, as a pledge of peace I shall treat them to their station and release one hostage every year returning them safely to their families..." he finished his summary of the terms.

"And what of the wild Targaryen girl?" Cersei spoke before anyone else had space to do so.

"You mean the Queen, Cersei?" Robb fixed his grey glare on the lady, deliberately pausing before speaking Cersei's name. "She has no desire for this throne either, she does not wish to be a threat, nor is she one…" he was met by sets of blank blinking eyes, figuring he had to explain further Robb continued "...had it not been clear before, I will state it plainly now. I have no desire to rule the South, keep it, it does not suit the honour of the North..." he paused "But, know that should the tenants that are agreed upon be broken, the North will not rest easy and will finish its march to the East most keep of King's Landing."

"You are like your father" Cersei abruptly said seeming to mean the statement as an insult, judging by the venom in her voice.

"Only and proudly when I need to be, my lady" Robb replied, simply ignoring her jab at him. "In return for these more than generous terms and for the return of your family, I want my father's remains along with his sword, Ice, and both of my sisters back…unscathed…"

Robb knew that these terms had been of the kindest sort, the treaty he was now negotiating would likely hold no barring over Stannis Baratheon or any one of the houses which may eventually seize the Iron Throne. In discussing his terms with his Lords, there had been some disputes, particularly with Lord Rickard Karstark, who had vehemently wanted Jaime's head for killing his two sons on the battlefield. Showing his sincere grief and appreciation for the loss of houses Robb had, by sheer force of his natural personality and true comradeship, been able to sway the men to see the larger picture and compromise for their beloved North. For the moment, with the state that Westeros was in it seemed that Joffery would stay where he sat and that such a treaty would leave Robb free to reclaim the North.

Joffery, who had been silent up to that point, had obviously been made to keep his mouth shut by his mother and uncle, suddenly began to screech out "That whor…!" The pointy bearded Baelish standing next to Cersei noticeably twitched, as the Spider cast his eyes down tritely shaking his bald, buttery head.

"What he means to say is my…" Tyrion quickly interjected, though Robb's countenance had already become deadly, and Grey Wind had risen to stand higher at his side.

"Your sister, Sansa, has run away with the Hound, Sandor Clegane" Cersei interrupted and finished for her brother. "And your younger sister vanished when your father was taken for treason…"

"WHAT!" Greatjon's voice erupted, there was an audible grit from Byrden Tully teeth, Lord Karstark's chair fell back as he suddenly stood up.

Robb had not moved, he could not think as the words edged their way into his head. He knew that his eyes were wide, he knew that his knuckles had turned white with force he was holding his chair's arms with, he knew his was resisting with every fibre of his being from ripping off an arm of his chair and smashing all three of faces before him into a bloody pulp.

"What. Do. You. Mean?" Robb softly pronounced each cold word clearly and evenly through his teeth; there was hard ice in his eyes now and he could feel it dripping down to chill the marrow of his bones. He understood what ire caused men, like Tywin Lannister, to be as frozen as they were. And Robb could see in the faces before him the alarm that typically filled most people upon meeting such freezing men. 'I'll kill them all.'

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><p><strong>Whoa!...<strong>


	21. Chapter 21: Shades and Traces

**Hey! Technically ouches, back on track… Here we go!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One – Shades and Traces<strong>

"Here Shaggydog!" Rickon called after his black beast of a wolf, through dusky and torch lit halls of RIverrun. Myra wondered when the boy would realize that the wolf was not exactly the delightful pet dog that he seemed to think he was; though Myra did agree that on closer acquaintance Shaggydog was utterly endearing. It had been eight days since the night that the men sent by Tyrion Lannister had attempted to break Jaime out of Riverrun. Lord Edmure said that he had needed a break from his nephew and had asked Myra to watch Rickon almost every day following that rescue attempt. It had worked out well for Myra as she enjoyed spending time with Rickon, but it had not worked out so well for Lord Edmure as Myra was not deterred from visiting Jaime.

Myra required her distractions, with each passing day the fear that twisted her bones into knots grew stronger. Just the night before Myra had woken up in tears, breathless and near screaming. She had dreamt that she was in hall, similar to RIverrun, when a sudden gale of icy wind had crashed the doors open and Robb had come in with Grey Wind, both he and his wolf mangled with half a hundred slashes, both with eyes burning.

She felt exceedingly useless, as all she seemed to do was worry at from her place in the audience. What she would not give to be one of the battle-ready Mormont women! What she would not give to be at Robb's side… At least then she would be contributing in some way, but alas Myra was all too aware that she barely had any skill with a blade and no one to teach her what took a lifetime to learn. Even though she was skilled with all of her practice at archery, Myra was not the most powerful of archers and she could not imagine how much strength it would take to fight in long battles, with heavy armor and swords and shields. When her mother had passed, she had seen what happened to bodies and their contents, and she knew that battle required more than only physical strength. These facts, however convincingly rational, served to make Myra feel more guilty and incompetent than anything else.

"Rickon" with Silver at her side and Robb's cloak swishing around her, Myra rushed to follow the flash reddish-brown hair trailing a blur of black. "Rickon!" Myra breathed out harshly, as Shaggydog threatened to burst into the Great Hall, where people may have been. Myra had not become any more comfortable surrounded by hoards of people. Even though most of the troops had left for the East with the Boltons, Freys and some of the Tullys, Myra just as uneasy with the smaller Tully forces that had remained at Riverrun. They never said anything disrespectful nor did they seem to dislike her but when Myra was in their presence they often cast curious glances or just plainly stared at her.

The troops had a look of wonder, as though they were trying to figure out something about her; she was sure that it did not help that most of them did not understand, and a scattered few did not trust, her dealings with Jaime. They also seemed insistent on calling her 'my lady'. Despite the fact Myra had said that the Northern men could address her as they wished, she continued to find the formality a little jarring.

Myra caught the collar of Rickon's shirt, making sure to avoid pulling on the long hair that reminded her so much of her mother's. RIckon finally stopped, just at the doors to the Great Hall as Shaggydog entered the large chamber. Myra's violet gaze remained stuck on doors, she tried to force out the images from her nightmare that had suddenly flooded her mind.

"Myra!" Rickon woke Myra out of her dream, as he twisted his body, trying to unwrap Myra clenched fist from his clothing.

"Oh!" Myra released him, "Sorry, little pup."

"Finally!" Rickon sighed in impatiently, rolling his deep blue eyes.

"I said sorry…" Myra defended herself. Rickon rolled his eyes again and began walking towards, the silent hall. "Here now!" Myra followed him in stride "if someone says they're sorry and they mean it you should forgive them…" The Great Hall was thankfully empty, and the torches were already lit in preparation for dinner. Myra had taken to eating dinners with Jaime, having to feed him for the most part in past weeks, she was also used to eating during the morning alone in her room and as needed to throughout the rest of the day, if she remembered to do so. The last time Robb went away Myra had seemed to lose her appetite but now that he was gone again a hunger filled her which, at times, she could not control.

"All of the time?" RIckon questioned, as he searched for Shaggydog in shadows beneath the long wooden tables in the Hall.

"Well…" Myra paused for moment, standing in the middle of Hall with Silver, as Rickon carried looking under the tables "…depending on what they do…" Myra grappled with what she was trying to say "…you can forgive a person for anything, it doesn't mean you have to be friends with them, or that you even have to like them, or trust them again or that they can avoid justice…it makes you bigger…"

This caught Rickon's attention fully, he turned to look back at her excitedly. "Really?"

"I mean on the inside…where it matters. You cannot judge a person just by how they look, though" she thought of her silver hair "it is tempting… most of the time it is their mind and their insides that really count…"

"Oh…" Rickon turned back to looking "You mean like Bran? Here Shaggydog!"

"I…" then it dawned on Myra that Rickon was referencing Bran's legs, not Bran's forgiving nature… or lack thereof… "Yes, little pup. Bran is more than just his legs."

"Found you!" Rickon exclaimed, playfully wrestling Shaggydog out from under one the tables. Myra grinned at the triumphant boy before her.

"You know, he runs away from you a lot… you must smell pretty horrible" she teased.

"I do not! Uncle Edmure's smell is worse!" he insisted. Myra laughed, as the boy continued, scratching behind his wolf's ear "and it's not his fault he runs away... he just gets nervous sometimes…" Rickon's expression changed "I do too…"

"Nervous about what, little pup?" Myra's voice was stained with concern.

Rickon shrugged, eyes focused on his fingers as they curled through Shaggydog's fur. "Everything's changing… home, father, even how Robb looks…" she tried not to let her countenance falter, as a sudden wave of pressure hit her at the mention of Robb. Rickon must have felt it as well, as he suddenly looked her. Myra tried to think of what say to comfort Rickon, she felt Silver nudge her leg.

"Come on little pup," she held out her hand and walked closer to the boy, "I'll teach you something…" following that statement RIckon recoiled, fear in his deep blue eyes.

"I won't learn the house words or any words…" he proclaimed, jutting out his chin though his body kept shrinking away from her.

Myra stopped halfway to him, smiling affectionately at him "It's not that kind of learning, though now you mention it you should be studying that as well…" she spoke seriously but with kindness, gesturing for him to come to her, which he did.

Myra did not begin walking anywhere instead she sat them both down on one of the long benches by the tables, she took his left hand in hers and faced his palm up. "Hmmm…" she murmured tracing the lines of his palms.

"What? What is it?" Rickon asked clearly confused.

"Well" Myra spoke softly "you see these lines, on your hand" she could see Rickon nod from the corner of her eye "they are not just lines, the have meaning according to some…"

"Meaning?" Rickon asked.

"My mother liked to look at other cultures and see what was fun in them, she used to love looking at these lines and seeing what they said about our lives…"

"I thought you were like me, that you believed in the Old Gods."

"I do. But who knows if this has any power, I like said this is for fun. Think of it as a game…" explained as she examined his small palm.

"What do they mean then?" Rickon asked clearly interested.

"Well, this line means your will be happy in love one day, these squares mean protection in your travels, these lines crossing here mean at least one, two big decisions…" she carried on with Rickon listening intently. As Myra drew to a close her violet eyes shifted to his face "…you see little pup… even if the power of the lines is just lore, what I see most of all in your life is change. If you ever feel scared of change again just look at you palm and remember that it normal to be scared and it's natural to change… and that I will be here for you in some way or another…"

Rickon was rubbing his fingers over his left palm "Is it the same with Bran?..." he asked so softly that Myra had to lean into hear "you don't talk to him…" he suddenly began rushing out "is because of the Kingslayer, Bran doesn't like him right? Is it because annoying Jojen is always around? 'Cause I get…"

"Little pup!" Myra cut him off before he turned blue from forgetting to breathe. She had not realized that Rickon had been so aware of Bran's distance from her. Two weeks after he had gone quiet she had stopped trying to get Bran to speak to her, she had not wanted to keep pestering him in case it made him stay away longer; she had knocked at his closed door when she had known that he was in his room just after Osha left him there. Myra had told him that she would be ready whenever he wanted to talk and that she cared for him deeply.

When she had gone to visit what was thought to be the last remaining godswood in the Riverlands, within the wall of Riverrun to pray, she ran into Bran and Osha before the weirwood there. Bran had demanded that Osha quickly take him back to his room, Osha had shot her an apologetic look as she walked by and Myra prayed for a long time for everything that she could think of, then went to tell Osha that Bran would be in no danger of running into her at the godswood again. Myra did not want such a calming and holy place to be ruined for Bran because of her.

Myra felt foolish for not have seeing how much of a betrayal her association with Jaime could be taken as by Bran, who held such hatred for the man. "I…it…" Myra struggled "Bran knows that when he is ready to talk to me, I am here and that love him and you and mother… and I am sure, when I meet them soon, the rest of your… our" she quickly corrected herself "family too…" Rickon nodded slowly, as Shaggydog in show of comfort nuzzled the boy's side and Myra thought of how to change the subject "I thought you liked Jojen…" she tried.

"I did…" he huffed, patting Shaggydog's head "I do, it's just…he says things and Bran lets him…"

Myra's violet gaze filled with wonder as she looked at the small boy in the huge torch lit hall "Mean things?" She asked, Rickon shook his head. Myra tried to think of what he could be talking about and reached with "So… you mean with his 'greensight'…?" To which Rickon nodded. Myra disliked prying, but was concerned about what Jojen could have been saying that would disturb Rickon enough to keep him away from Bran. As such she asked "What kinds of things little pup?"

RIckon was determinedly looking, away from Myra, at Shaggydog as he spoke now "Just things…He sees things and Bran believes him, but when I said I saw father in the crypts at home he told me to shut up…but he told Jojen that he saw the same thing as me…" That took a moment for Myra to register.

"When did you see him…?" Myra asked, wondering why Bran would deny such a thing to begin with.

"At the camp while I was sleeping, the night before we found out…"

Before she could help herself, Myra felt her mouth hanging open in a circle "Oh…" was all she could think to say unprepared.

Rickon nodded, "I've seen more but he didn't believe… there was Jon cold, Ayra covered in blackness, a shadow crumpling someone, a tick called Reek at home and an old man with not enough seats for his children happily toasting and digging into grey meat…" he had been speaking slowly though Myra felt as though he was racing through his speech again. She was trying to look encouraging and open, meanwhile her mind was racing. She could not bear to think of the horrible things Rickon was seeing at, not just Rickon but Bran and Jojen as well; they were too young and it was not fair.

Myra wished she knew how to defend them from it and protect them from these visions. She almost scoffed at herself for that, she could not even protect her herself from the flames the burned her in the night nor the red mist that haunted her eyes in the day. Even so, though she was sure that hers were just… had to just be nightmares, she more than anything wanted to save the boys from the similar terror she suffered each night.

Rickon did not respond to her silence he continued with what he was saying "I think they're better at it, I heard them they see more and…" Rickon's voice wavered "he believes him…"

It became clear to Myra that this was not only about the visions, but about feeling betrayed by his brother. Probably much as Bran was feeling by her, Rickon was feeling hurt by his brother's blatant overlooking of him.

"Oh, little pup…" Myra wrapped her arms around the boy, she could see a streak of water on his silent face "I'm sure that Bran does not know that he has hurt you this way…speak to him and maybe you be able to forgive him and Jojen…"

Rickon sniffed, leaning into Myra's hug though his blue eyes were still turned away from her "I will…and maybe Jon too…"

"Jon?" Myra's voice thick with confusion, broaching this new subject wearily, as she had thought the conversation had been dwindling down for dinner.

Rickon nodded "He didn't come when father and my sisters were taken, and Robb went to war and Winterfell was taken…"

Myra pursed her lips, struggling for words, wondering if it was her place as she remembered her last speaking in encounter with Bran. Nonetheless, she looked to Silver and ventured "Robb said your brother loves you very much…" Rickon nodded, "Do you know the vow of the Night's Watch?" Rickon shook his head. "It is very strict, little pup. Very strict" she said again, to be sure he grasped what she was saying "Your brother must have a lot of honour, to make himself stay there… because the love that you know he has for you," Rickon's shiny eyes finally moved to meet her "that sort of love just doesn't go away… do you understand?" her lilac gazed searched his to see if her meaning stuck. He nodded. "Good" she smiled, Rickon abruptly turned to hug her in return.

"Myra" he began after a spell of quiet.

"Yes little pup?"

"What are the vows exactly?"

"Truly Rickon?" Myra tsked then chuckled "Tomorrow you start studying…"

"No" he uttered, Myra body shook with a laugh as she felt him slump in defeat.

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><p>Following dinner Myra took a tired Rickon up to his bed, helping him wash his face and change, listening to the memories he had of his sisters and brothers, and tucking him in, as she did every night, as she would have done for Bran if he would have allowed her to. Afterwards, Myra spoke a quick 'goodnight' to Bran door, whispered a prayer to the Gods for the boys' sleeping minds to no longer be haunted and made her way down to the dungeons with Silver by her side and Robb's cloak still wrapped around her body. Now that she knew of how Bran may have been feeling she knew that she should perhaps not be visiting Jaime, but she had developed a rapport with him, she would feel awful if she suddenly cut him out of her life; from personal experience she had found that it was not a good feeling.<p>

Myra had to commend Lord Edmure's resolve to keep her away from Jaime, he had allowed the chains some give to let Jaime lie down and allowed his hands to be moved to his front in the hopes of appeasing Myra. Jaime had suggestively noted how having his hands before him allowed him to relieve himself much more easily, in more ways than one. He also stated that after stabbing the Mad King he had taken a seat on the Iron Throne and ever since then he had a pain in his ass, so finally being able to lie down was a blessing. Jaime was funny and Myra had grown accustom to laughing at whatever it was he had said that day before she fell asleep, which was a far better method of reaching sleep than worrying for Robb, even if in her dreams the same worry found her anyway. Silver too had become a little easier around him, just a little though, she still growled and watched him when his voice rose or he moved or sighed or sneezed.

"You know everything don't you? I know you do because when I was young I knew everything too." Jaime commented this night, once Myra had settled next to him.

"You thought you knew everything no more than a week ago…" she grinned, her tone jokingly remorseful… "Are you suddenly an old man?"

"It is all in relativity," he drawled out "you're not yet seventeen and I have will have three and thirty years in the coming months... your King willing…" Myra's nose twitched at the sour tang he added to his remark, as he continued "I'm old enough to be your father and as such am not young, not around you…"

"Odd. You act like a child enough…" returned snidely, as his chin moved in such a way to make Myra certain he was resisting biting his thumb at her. Not that the action could have very effectively considering where his hands were shackled before him. "Truly though, you do not seem to be only a few years younger than Lady Stark, at times you do not seem as old as Robb or Lord Edmure, though they are younger than you are…" pausing to think on what she was saying, Myra noticed Jaime's mouth move to speak, she continued before he could say anything "But maybe that comes from their being sure of who they are…" Myra smiled to herself, reminiscing fondly "my mother always said age happens when one stops learning and changing… she was obsessed with schooling herself as well as me, finding new mysteries in and interpretations of things. 'Nothing is ever as simple as it seems, Myra.'" She mimicked her mother's voice. "'There are many reasons for everything, no reasons for some things, and whether right or wrong those reasons all worth consideration. There is always something new to learn even in the familiar…'" the silver haired girl laughed at her poor technique at imitation. Jaime chuckled along as well, probably laughing at the only dreadful voice she was able to muster.

"My mother…" Jaime began warmly but stopped. She saw his small sad smile drop completely, he scoffed humourlessly, shaking his head at his lap "… you know? All I can scrape together from hearsay is that the Mad King was licentious in his want of her." His tone resonating with disgust "I don't even remember what she could have taught me…" he snorted bitterly again "isn't that pathet… what are you doing?"

Myra did not know why but as he was speaking she had a sudden urge to compare palms and before she knew it she was pulling his bound clinking hands before her. "Sorry I just…" Myra trailed off, distracted by how similar their palms were and were not. Excitement filled her as she pointed out marks on his palm "See this!" she smiled at his palm "it's nothing pathetic, this gap here… see, you are very lucky and this here means a successful and happy marriage…" she pointed at the end of a line, but then frowned "but the circle means unhappiness in an earlier relationship…" his hand flinched and Myra, realizing how intrusive and inappropriate she was being, suddenly got a hold of herself. She dropped his hands, "I'm sorry. That was rude…" She turned head towards Jaime, who had cocked his head to an angle and was looking at her with a mix of interest as well as a little annoyance.

"I-" she began, but was interrupted.

"You know of the Orphans of the Greenblood?"

Myra nodded, though she was puzzled by his odd mention of them. Myra had been taught that when Nymeria, the warrior-queen, fled from the Valyrian Freehold of cities Essos, she landed her ten thousand Rhoyne ships South past King's Landing, in Dorne and along the Greenblood River. Some Rhoynar intermingled with the Dornish, while the 'Orphans of the Greenblood' did not instead choosing to continue to practice their ancestral traditions.

Jaime carried on "What you just did with the lines on my hand. They do as well… Where did you learn it? Your mother?"

Myra nodded again. Could it have been that her mother had been from Dorne, from Essos… maybe the mother who had birthed her had been Dornish as well.

His green eyes roamed her face as they had done times before "Funny…you have neither of Dornish nor Rhoyne colouring… are you sure your mother was your mother? What was her name, perhaps I knew her?"

"Her name…um, Rhelia…" Myra felt strange that Jaime had become close to figuring out that she had an adopted mother, but not half as strange as she felt speaking her mother's name. Myra had only ever heard her mother's name once or twice when the older woman played out exchanges from her past life.

"Rhelia…" Jaime let the name float in the air a moment, before stating "It doesn't sound familiar…" he actually sounded frustrated by the mystery of Myra's linage "… no last name?"

Myra shook her head "Forget about that. I told you, I do not want to know" Myra tried to change the topic "So…tell me about the palm interpreting Jaime Lannister…"

"No such thing…" he replied.

"Oh, I did not know that…" she paused "How about the palm interpreting Jim then?" There was a silence then Jaime's laughter echoed all the way down the sparsely lit halls of the windowless dungeons.

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><p><strong>Please let me know what you think… About the story, the grammar, the direction of my personal life.<strong>


	22. Chapter 22: How the Road Bends

**Hello all! Here is another disclaimer: Full props to G.R.R "The Bear" Martin (get it… 'grr'… grr…)! Please do not sue me. And enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two – How the Road Bends<strong>

"Rickon, you are not dying."

"Yes I am! Look at my face!" The boy sat up in his seat lips pouting out and eyes as wide as saucers. Myra was sorely tempted to give in but steeled herself against him. It was just after lunch on the rainy day after Rickon had told Myra about his dreams. Myra had set up place for Rickon to study in day lit Great Hall, which was empty save them and Meera Reed, who had been looking for a dry, open space to read in but was instead getting an earful from Rickon. Meera had the same crannogmen green garb, green eyes and brown hair as her brother, she was fifteen and soft-spoken but one could not mistake the ferocious hunter that lived in her. She had Myra wondering about how many other pretty, smart, noble, adept Northern girls there were that could have… Silver roughly pushed against Myra legs, making her focus on the complaining boy next to her.

Myra did not see what was so incredibly difficult, all she had laid out before Rickon was a map of Westeros so that he could get a general sense of the land. He was only eight and not yet a great reader, Myra had thought it was a good match up, yet one would think that she was trying to pull out his fingernails with the way that he was whining. Myra thought over what Maester Luwin would do, he had taught the other Stark children, he was a smart man… her mind lingered at Winterfell with him and Mena and Tyella and the horses, even Theon. There had been no substantial word from either the North or the South, other than to say the Night's Watch was fighting beyond the Wall and that Tywin Lannister was being held in the Westerlands. When, some days ago, Myra had told Jaime of his father's situation something in his golden head seemed to go slightly mad and he had started laughing.

"Rickon…" Meera who has been watching in quietly amusement had moved to stand beside the seated Rickon. She emptied the contents of the satchel that she had constantly had on her, out on to the table. There were a series of coloured stones each weathered and beautiful in their own way. "If…" Meera picked up a grey jagged stone and placed it at Winterfell on the map before Rickon "this is the House Stark at Winterfell and they were to war with say" she picked up a transparent purple stone "the Baratheons where is the House that they would be fighting?" Rickon quickly pointed to the Stormlands and once he was sure where all the house were seated, he began delineating battle tactics, with Myra and Meera poking holes in his logic if he became utterly ridiculous; in one instance he had a dragon climbing out of the depths of Winterfell and so on...

Myra thanked Meera . "Not at all, my lady…"

"Please just Myra is fine…" Myra interjected, then commenting "It was convenient… having those stones."

Meera smiled "Yes, they're not really for anything. I simply liked the look them and collected them…Jojen was like that" she gesturing towards a distracted siege-laying Rickon "when he was younger" she added wistfully.

Myra was about to reply when there where shouts from the main foyer. Her heart leapt up into her throat. Was Robb back? Before Myra knew it she was on her feet rushing to the entrance hall. She skidded to a halt, Sliver bounded to stop next to her. The shouting guards seemed to have left and Lord Edmure was already there, greeting Lady Catelyn. A very ashen Lady Catelyn and her guest… Rickon, Shaggydog and Meera had come to stand behind Myra. She did not even have to look at Rickon to know that his mouth was hanging open.

"Is that a man or a woman?"

"Rickon!" Myra exclaimed, looking down at the boy. The three heads turned to take notice of the younger party, clearly he had spoken loud enough for his voice to carry through the hall towards the Lady Stark, Lord Edmure and what looked to be a big blue knight, easily just over six feet tall, in armor.

"Myra! Rickon!" Catelyn called, moving with her party in tow. Myra did the same, as the two groups approached one another Myra examined the blue knight deciding the she was most definitely a woman, not much older than Robb. Her hair was as straw, and her features were broad and coarse, her teeth prominent and crooked, her mouth wide, with lips so plump they seemed swollen. And speckled over a nose had been broken more than once and cheeks and brow she had, what Myra recognized to be a thousand freckles. Her freckles fascinated Myra, she thought that they were wonderful , but the blue knight's eyes truly endeared her to Myra. They were large and very blue, a young child's eyes, trusting and guileless.

Rickon quickly moved to hug his mother, unsure of what to do at first, Myra decided to follow Rickon's lead, greeting Catelyn with an embrace. "I am glad you made it back well…" Myra spoke as she pulled away, she focused on Catelyn though she sensed the blue knight's eyes evaluating her.

"That is debatable…" Catelyn stated as she nodded at Meera, who bowed her head in return.

"How do you mean?" Myra frowned.

"That was what we were discussing before you came in" Lord Edmure turned to face his sister "Cat, some say you killed Renly. Others claim it was some southern woman." His glance lingered on the blue knight.

"My king was murdered," the blue woman said quietly, finally speaking "and not by Lady Catelyn nor I, though we were both with him when he was killed. I swear it on my sword, by the gods old and new." She cast shaded glance at Catelyn, so quickly that Myra was not sure that it had happened.

"This is Brienne of Tarth, daughter of Lord Selwyn the Evenstar, who served in Renly's Rainbow Guard," Catelyn told them. "Brienne, I am honored to acquaint you with my daughter Queen of the North Myra Stark, her wolf Silver, my son Rickon Stark of Winterfell, his wolf Shaggydog, my brother Ser Edmure Tully heir to Riverrun and Meera Reed of Greywater Watch."

"Honoured," said Lord Edmure for himself and the others. Myra recognized Brienne's flush of embarrassment even at their courtesy, it was the same as her own when she was addressed with titles and formality.

"Who were those men we saw hanged at the gate?" Catelyn pressed on.

"False envoys," Edmure declared. "After their peace offer was refused, nine nights ago they tried to free the Kingslayer." Catelyn face suddenly turned into a stone mask of seething anger.

"You refused terms?"

"On His Grace's behalf" satisfied with his own explanation Lord Edmure carried on with his own inquiries "Can we hope for no help from the south? This charge of incest... Lord Tywin does not suffer such slights lightly. He will seek vengeance on the accuser, Lord Stannis must see this. He must know he has no choice but to work with us if he wants protection from the Lannisters."

Myra was happy to be a silent bystander to the current conversation, as it appeared that once again she had nothing to offer to the going-ons. But steadily she found that she was having trouble keeping up. When had all of this happened? Why had she not been informed, at least?

"Murder? Incest?" Myra uttered before she could keep her mouth from moving.

Lord Edmure looked at her "I'm sorry Myra, I did not want to worry you before there was reason to do so…but if you wish it I will tell you of your Kingslayer now…"

* * *

><p>Incest, a cold shiver ran up Myra's spine. Even thinking the word left a foul taste in her mouth. How could someone commit such an act?<p>

The more Myra had thought of it however, the more the Taraygens, her ancestors, filled her mind. The Old Gods did not abide incest, kinslaying or slavery but Jaime did not come from her world of the Old Gods. He had lived with the overtly incestuous Taragyens and sordid courts of the south. In an attempt to not be hypocritical she figured that, at the very least, Jaime deserved a chance to defend his actions. Which was why, in the dead of the night on the day that Catelyn had returned, Myra felt she had to speak with Jaime, even though Myra felt the urge to vomit when she thought of his relationship with his sister.

"Sour and vile," Myra heard Jaime's voice as she entered the hall leading to his cell, "but it will do." She heard a sipping sound. Her face creased with confusion as she gave her violet-eyed wolf a questioning glance. Myra knew that sometimes Jaime spoke to himself in dark, she had heard him on some days as she had approached his locked cell door, however tonight the door was open and the light of a lamp was flickering through it. Myra padded closer as softly as she could, shamefully curious. "Your first question, Lady Catelyn?" she heard his dry voice.

Catelyn wasted no time. "Are you Joffrey's father?"

"You would never ask unless you knew the answer."

"I want it from your own lips."

There was a shifting and sipping sound followed by Jaime stating "Joffrey is mine. As are the rest of Cersei's brood, I suppose."

"You admit to being your sister's lover?"

"I've always loved my sister, and you owe me two answers." Apparently trading questions and answers equally "Do all my kin still live? It's Cersei and Tyrion who concern me…As well as my captive father."

"They live, all three." There was an angry tremor in Catelyn's voice as she spoken on "You admitted to flinging my boy from a window." Lady Stark's voice now seemed to constrict as she said, "Though you were a knight, sworn to defend the weak and innocent."

"I am a knight and he was weak enough, but perhaps not so innocent." Myra wished she were in the cell so she could slap him, but she remained by the door, cemented where she was "…He was spying on us." Jaime continued.

"You meant truly for him to die..."

His chains chinked softly, there was another sip. "I seldom fling children from towers to improve their health... little shit woke though, between you being with the boy day and night, your maester , Lord Eddard attending him frequently, the guards, even those damned direwolves... he made sure to rise didn't he?"

"Do not lie to me, Kingslayer" Catelyn voice dripped with venom against the sound of shifting fabric "The man who came to slit Bran's throat gave me these scars. You swear you had no part in sending him?" Myra involuntarily traced the lines of her own palms, natural or not Catelyn's scars told the story of her life, her fierce love for her family.

"On my honour as a Lannister."

"Your honour as a Lannister is worth less than this." She kicked over what sounded to be the waste pail. Soon Myra could smell the foul uncovered stench from the door.

Jaime's chains clinked again. "Believe me, Lady Stark, if I had wanted your Bran dead I would have done it myself."

After a moment, Catelyn apparently accepted that he was speaking the truth. "If not you or the Imp then it was your sister..."

"If so, I'd know. Cersei keeps no secrets from me." Myra blinked a few times to be sure that she was not dreaming, everything she was hearing confirmed Jaime's depravity, but Myra could not bring herself to be as disgusted with his love for his sister. She recalled the desperate look in his eye when he had affirmed her love and here he truly seemed to love her, he was not simply with his twin out of lust or convenience. Though she hated the way he was speaking to Catelyn and about Bran, she had to remind herself of her claim to recognize his odd sense of honour.

"How can you still count yourself a knight, when you have forsaken every vow you ever swore?" Catelyn sounded confounded by such a man.

He sighed and again there was a sip "There are so many, but I can say this… I've never lain with any woman but Cersei. We are one half of a whole" Myra felt Robb's mark on her shoulder throb, she understood it was to have half of oneself missing "In my own way, I have been truer than your Ned ever was. Poor old dead Ned and his bastard…" Myra truly wanted to hit him now "So who has shit for honour" he continued smugly "now, I ask you?"

"We will see won't we Kingslayer. You will swear here and now on your honour never to raise arms against the Tully and Stark houses again…" Jaime snorted "You will swear on your honour to return my Sansa and Ayra to me safely" there was a silence "Brienne give me your sword…" Catelyn spoke softly, Myra had not realized that Brienne was with Lady Stark, there was the sound of metal being unsheathed. Myra wanted to act but felt as though her body had filled with lead at the shock of what her ears were bearing witness to. "If you swear this, I will release you this very moment…"

"I swear it" he had responded almost immediately. Silver bit her teeth together with a crack, causing Myra to bolt into action.

"NO!" Myra stormed into the cell, grabbing at Catelyn's raised arms, sword clasped in her hands. "NO! Catelyn… do you have such little faith in your son?" Catelyn took a second to recognize Myra, the sword clattered to the ground as the older woman's arms dropped to her sides. Her sad blue eyes rimmed with emotion that made Myra want to cry.

"I just want my daughters back…" Catelyn whispered, loud for Myra and Brienne to hear beside her.

"Robb will find a way..." Myra spoke softly, "Acting without his approval takes away what legitimate claim Jaime could have to bring back the girls in any case… I…" Myra discerned the worn out state of the woman before her, Myra heard the hallow sound of a cup being set down behind her as she continued "Perhaps you could try to get some rest and we can talk and sort out a plan to get your daughters tomorrow?" Myra smiled gently at the older woman, hoping that she could see how sincerely Myra wanted all of the Starks together again.

Catelyn closed her eyes, shaking her head as though to clear her vision when she opened her eyes blue gaze was less shiny and more determined "You are right" she sniffed, lips quirking in a small smile as she met Myra's violet stare. "You clever, sweet girl… tomorrow…" she began leaving, as Brienne bent over to pick up her sword.

"I will be just behind you" Myra stated, watching from the centre of the cell. Lady Stark halted by the door, she raised an eyebrow in question "I will be fine, we will speak tomorrow…" Myra offered, Catelyn nodded though her expression remain incredulous she went on her way with Brienne.

Myra opened her mouth to speak as she turned back to face Jaime, though no words made it past her lips when she met Jaime expression. A shaggy lion, under his fierce bread and the ropes of blonde hair growing from his head, Myra felt his green eyes slice at her tongue and words. Myra felt unsafe all of sudden, she took some time to collected herself and found her voice faltering when she did.

"J-Jaime, I'm sorry… I'm sure you understand…"

"Oh, I understand completely Birdy" his voice cut through the rest of her, reminding her of when they first met. Silver growled at him but he ignored her, his eyes unflinchingly fixed on Myra "But you understand this… I wanted to get out of this fucking hole _very _badly…"

"Jaime, I…"

"There you go chirping again… Do you remember that annoying pest in the rafters I told you about, Birdy?"

Myra nodded.

"Do you know what I did to that bird?"

Myra could tell he was trying to frighten her, she would not let him. She stood up straight and spoke her assumption as plainly and calmly as she could "You shot it."

Jaime shook his head slowly, his green eyes not leaving her face. "You have not seen me walk or move, you have no idea of how swiftly and softly I can tread… before that bird in the rafters could squawk, I had it in my hands and had snapped its soft little neck." Myra felt winded by the force of what he was saying, his voice smooth and low "I dropped its eggs, then its head, then its body off of that cliff at Casterly Rock…"

"Jaime…"

"A Lannister always pays his debts, Birdy," he cut her off sharply "and only a foolish person makes threats he cannot fulfill… You may be a saint after all, but be sure, I know myself. I am not a fool. Leave." There was a finality to his voice, that made Myra stay only a second longer to look upon him sadly.

"I'm sorry… you are choosing to lose a friend…" she offered in a wisp of a sound as she moved to leave with Silver at her heels.

"Feel sorry for yourself," his voice shadowed her out the door "You chose to gain something else…"

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><p><strong>Uh oh! Yet another split chapter. Got to say another loud disclaimer, definitely used things from<em> Clash of Kings<em>. If you've read it then you know which scene. If not hopefully the show will make it happen. Once again I enjoy opinions… adore them.**


	23. Chapter 23: Scraps to Treasure

**Hey! Hi! Hello! Editing… apologies in advance…**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three – Scraps to Treasure<strong>

His nose was trailing up the line her neck she could feel him drawing her into his being, and she welcomed it as his teeth nipped at her shoulder, she delighted in it. It was sunny, and light spilled into their bedchamber over their love spent bodies. His fingers worked their way up from her stomach to tease her breast she moaned as under his calloused touch, the skin there hardened.

"Robb" she murmured to the man warm in the bed behind her. She turned to nuzzle into his neck placing a languid kiss against his warm skin, as she ran her fingers down his back. Robb let out a soft, appreciative growl.

"You're awake…"

"Yes" she kissed his neck again "Now what do you want of me?"

Robb pulled her up his body so his grey eyes met her violet "Everything always… everything of you…"

Her lilac gaze glided over his stubble covered face, he was a man but his eyes were filled with the unsure feelings storming inside a boy. With her silver hair falling in a ring around their heads, she felt a though they had discovered a private world. His dark hair contrasted against her light… simple, black and white… "I'm yours… always…"

A smile spread across his lips, reaching up all the way to his eyes "Good, my little dragon… I was trying to think of a crown for you…" her heart dropped, as he sat them up so her legs straddled his lap "I've made you one that will suit you I think" She did not know where his retrieved it from, but he suddenly had a wreath of flowers in his hands. He placed the crown to sit comfortably atop her head, stroking her cheek as his trailing his hands back down her neck "…Beautiful" His eyes were directly on hers, she felt her veins light on fire as his fingers tugged at a tendril of her silver hair pulling it slowly to his nose. Her violet gaze followed his actions while his grey smolder remained on her eyes and lips. As he inhaled his eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned "you smell…delicious" his skin felt hot against hers, nude and practically lying on top of him Myra could feel the liquid heat pooling between her legs she mewled as he rubbed himself against her entrance. His eyes snapped open, grey coals burning, a wicked smile on his lips "You taste even better…" one fluid motion, crushing his lips against hers, she felt a rumble from down in his chest as she dug her fingers into his unruly dark hair. Myra gasped as she felt him move deep inside of her, she wanted more she want him deeper, closer, entwined with her forever…

Myra's breaths came out in pants, as she tried to beat the haze out of her head, her legs felt close to jelly and her skin was flush with the heat of her dream. Silver was inquiringly nudging at her head and someone was knocking on her bedroom door.

It was the next morning and, in spite of the events of the previous night, Myra's sleep had been the best she had in a long while. Once Myra had caught her breath she answered the door to find that Osha had come to visit her with word from Lady Catelyn, who wished to meet Myra in the godswood. Osha assured her that Bran was busy with Jojen and Rickon practicing their archery.

"How are you Osha?" Myra asked, it had been sometime since they had been given a chance to speak, as the girl was almost always with Bran.

"Aw, you know m'lady…"

"Myra" the silver-haired girl corrected her.

"Sorry you hear people talking and get used to it. Myra" she began again firmly "I'm just glad to be South. Would be gladder still, if we got further down…"

"What terrifies you so from beyond the wall?"

"I told ya' Myra, things are waking up things just shaking, gettin' ready to bring the Wall down…"

"Osha, what you speak of it frightens me…" Myra voiced honestly, pulling Robb's cloak around her shoulders as they walked away from her bed chamber.

"It frightens me too… but I reckon that not all tha's scaring you…"

She thought of all of her horrifying other dreams of Robb. "No, no it isn't…"

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><p>Catelyn smiled at Myra as the girl and her wolf approached. Osha had gone to seek out some food leaving Myra alone, with Silver, to speak with the older woman in the godswood. Greeting one another then sitting down on a log before the weirwood Catelyn began. "It's odd… I never felt right in any godswood, I was named in the light of the Seven and the Old Gods were the only part of the North I could not grow into, but now I feel Ned here…" she shook her head, pulling back to look at Myra for a moment. "You seem to suit it in this place as well…"<p>

Myra nodded, feeling awkward, trying figure to what to say to the Lady with the general content of what she was telling the girl, especially after the past night's events "um… there was never anything as grand as these well-kept godswoods by my home, but there was a heart tree craved by Children of the Forest and, it seemed, long forgotten by the Frist Men and those who followed…" Myra thought back to that small patch of snow, even without the beauty of a godswood encompassing it, kneeling and praying there with her mother and Silver at her side Myra felt that, that patch was the holiest of all of the places that she would ever know.

Catelyn had been told of Myra's dealings with Jaime by Edmure "I will not disrespect you by questioning your honour… I believe you love Robb very deeply."

Myra smiled softly, rubbing Silver's head, the mark on her left shoulder pulsed "I truly do with all my heart."

"Even I understand why you would be concerned for him… the conditions my brother is keeping him in do not fit the status of the Kingslayer's station. It's rather appalling…"

"I did not know a prisoner such as he, should have stayed elsewhere" Myra commented.

"A tower cell…" seeing the lack of recognition in Myra's violet gaze, Catelyn explained "…it is cell on a tower top, which gets sunlight, has a bed, even books and a desk to write on…perhaps he would not have been chained so brutishly, but it is I who had reason to despise the Kingslayer so much, not Edmure…"

"But that is not the only reason you wished to free him last night…"

"No…" Catelyn blue eyes brimmed with a powerful sadness "on my return from the South, following the start of the Battle of Blackwater, I heard whispers of my daughters' fates… of Ayra's being lost and Sansa's running away from King's Landing with the King's man, Sandor Clegane…"

"Who?"

"He is called 'the Hound', beast of a man, though nothing compared to his brother, Gregor 'the Mountain' according to hearsay, the same man who had been tormenting the Riverlands on the Lannister's behalf before Robb moved South…" Catelyn took a breath to calm herself "… the Lannister's lost my gentle girl to such a man as Sandor and lost my other daughter completely…"

Myra stroked behind Silver's ear. For a woman desperate to recover her children Myra could see how logical Catelyn was being. If this Clegane character was a King's man he would likely be at the whim of the Lannister's as well, and by releasing Jaime she may have been able to ensure her daughters' return. Furthermore, if the tales were true Jaime could out match practically anyone in Westeros, and he could bribe the rest, so if he did search for Catelyn's daughters, chances would be that he would be able save them from whoever they were with or whatever their fate may be. Myra was not sure of her assumptions but said anyway "…And that is why you wanted to free Jaime…"

Catelyn nodded, looking but not really seeing off into the distance "There are some dangerous things in the world…"

Myra had been about to say that it had not been irrational to free Jaime, but Catelyn's statement stopped her, as she heard her mother's voice echo in her head 'the world is filled with dangerous people.'

"Even shadows have power…"

"Shadows?" Myra's silver brow furrowed, as she now recalled Rickon's list of horrors.

Catelyn nodded her red head again, her gaze clearly fixed on something playing in her head as she spoke airily "That is how I came to have Brienne in my service, she was there when a shadow in the form of Stannis Baratheon killed Renly with a blade that was not truly there…" Catelyn turned to look at a severe faced Myra, she scoffed "If you think me mad I would not blame you… I think it myself…"

"No" Myra shook her head "I believe you…" Catelyn faced her once more with a raised eyebrow "You should talk to Rickon, he…"

"Rickon?"

Myra thought of how to try to phrase it, but decided that he should tell his mother in his own words and with his own honest conviction "He makes it easier to believe the surreal…" she could still the question in Catelyn mind, so she continued "That is all I will say. I think he would like to tell you himself… please promise to ask him…"

Catelyn nodded again "I will…" they sat absorbing the peace of the godswood , when Catelyn spoke again "we received word this morning that Robb would be at King's Landing by tomorrow at least…" this news left the violet-eyed girl with her mouth hanging open. Catelyn shook her head "I him as a babe at my breast, such a little breakable thing…"the older woman's voice trailed off, as Myra found herself consumed with a blaze of considerations.

Her Robb had made to King's Landing. To the Iron Throne. Her Robb had succeeded, he could be King of all Westeros… she could be… Catelyn sniffed bitterly, her voice interrupted Myra's anxious thoughts "I am glad you are here Myra, as you clearly have more sense about you than I…" there was a harsh thrum of anger in her voice obviously directed at her own actions, Myra could see the steel of Robb's grey eyes in his mother's blue ones.

Myra took hold of the older woman's hand, squeezing it warmly. "You are a mother, who loves her children, all of the reasons behind your choices make perfect sense …"

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><p>That day had been the last day she had any gentle sleep, from that night on it was absolute horror… all red hair and red eyes, silver flames dancing, burning into her flesh and Robb's.<p>

Myra had been trying to find a way to clear her head outdoors, she longed for the comfort and wonder that the fog of her breath on the Northern air use to provide. She yearned for the familiarity of the worn pages in her mother's books and the cold to wash away the heat of her nightmares. Myra was walking in such a state when she heard the clanging of steel against steel and found Brienne of Tarth clashing swords with a Tully bannerman. In a flash if blades and grace Brienne had bested the man. She moved with utter grace, especially for one so large. Myra did not think that Brienne was as tall as Greatjon, or Smalljon who was yet taller than his father, but the Lady of Tarth was taller than most of the men Myra had seen.

Myra and Silver watched Brienne face man after man, fascinated by her strength and endurance, when there were no more men to fight Brienne finally seemed to notice Myra. "My lady" the tall woman had bowed almost instantly.

"Please there's no need for that bowing, and call me Myra please…" Brienne raised herself, clearly at odds with Myra's statement "How do you do that?" Myra gestured to the sword in Brienne's hand.

"Fight?" the blue freckled knight asked, to which Myra nodded. Brienne shrugged "I practice and quite simply, I do it. I was not made to mother, nor wait… and fighting is better than feeling useless…"

Myra contemplative gaze lingered on the great woman before her for a moment before she responded with a smile "I agree."

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><p>The violet-eyed girl groaned in frustration Meera was trying to teach her how to plant her feet so she could have enough force to make proper use of a dagger, and once again Myra was not doing well. It had been twelve days since she had spoken to Catelyn in the godswood, by that count it was eleven since had Robb had gotten to King's Landing.<p>

Over those days that he was gone Myra spent time with Brienne and Meera, who with some persuasion agreed to teach Myra some basic sword and dagger skills. Myra was fairly certain that Meera's agreeing had more to do with the girl's boredom and restlessness than Myra's persuasive skills. Jojen was happy with Bran, Summer and Osha and sometimes Rickon. Her little brother had urged Meera away and though she had stopped hovering around him, she seemed to be on the edge, waiting for him to crack as she said he had so many times before. The violet-eyed girl was grateful nonetheless, with Catelyn preoccupied with caring for her ailing father, Myra once again had very few people to keep her from thinking of Robb's being gone. Myra was discovering that she seemed have a natural talent for propelling people away despite her best intentions, first Bran, now Jaime… Robb… Her shoulder tickled. No! Robb would come back, she would make him…

"So what is he like?"

"Who? Robb?" Myra tried to hold her footing again.

"No I have seen him a hundred times over… what is the Kingslayer like?" Meera spoke easily pushing Myra out of her stance.

Myra huffed in agitation at her continued imbalance, before what Meera had said sunk in, she paused to look at the green-eyed girl "Jaime?... he… I don't know…" Myra felt wretched she had two people that she had hurt enough to have them cut her out of their lives. She had been worried about him, she knew that only reason he was being fed properly and was not being hurt daily was because her checking up on him.

She had asked the guards explicitly to resist hurting him, despite the temptation his words gave, and to continue feeding him well. The guard said they had done as she had asked, they had learned very quickly who should and should not be around Jaime Lannister, they also said that he refused to eat more than a crust of bread and water each day, that he knew where the food was coming from. Myra felt herself become ill at the news, he was torturing himself when he did not deserve it… she thought of Bran… well, not wholly undeserved but it still made her sick to think of...

Myra felt strange, trying to figure out what to say about Jaime. It was unsettling, as she did not enjoy the idea of gossiping behind his back. She also found it odd that Meera, who had seen much more, or at more than Myra, of the world was asking her what something she'd seen looked like. All Myra had seen were the insides of shadowy rooms and some of the North.

"I only saw him from a distance I couldn't tell is his hair as golden as they say? His eyes as gorgeous? His smile as stunning?" Meera asked excitedly.

Myra tried to picture Jaime now. She did not like the way he was being assessed like an item. Myra consider things that appealed to her eye to be beautiful, most times if gave something enough consideration or time it grew to be beautiful in her eyes, or at least parts of it did. Though there were exceptions... a shudder of disgust ran down her at the thought of Lord Bolton. There was also something about her mother's spirit and Catelyn's spirit, Meera's, Rickon's, Robb's, Bran's, Osha's, Brienne's, that added to them, made them beautiful to Myra.

For some reason what she could picture most clearly from her time with Jaime was his description the sea, it had seemed so wondrous and liberating at first but by the end it became a treacherous and choppy thing. Now as she tried to drum up what to tell this girl, who was clearly romantically inclined to appreciate Jaime's physical appearance, Myra did not know what to say.

Every feature she thought of transformed into Robb, nothing compared, Myra could not see anyone but him. She had no idea how to even begin to think of any other man in the way she thought of Robb nor did she want to "His is hairy now and eyes are green…and can be nice and good-humoured sometimes…" Most times… she recalled his better wry moments and almost laughed out loud at the best of them. She saw something flicker in him enough to maybe make him as beautiful to her violet eyes as everyone seemed to think someday. Meera seemed unsatisfied as Myra planted her feet again…

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><p>The fire in the hearth within Myra's bed chamber was slowly burning out, and Myra was making her way into bed, when she heard the screaming voice a boy getting louder as it approached her door. Her first thoughts were Rickon and Bran. What could have frightened them so badly? She had run almost all the way to the door when Jojen suddenly burst into her room. "… HAVE TO STOP IT!" his green eyes were wild as they raked over her room, searching for something. Silver had moved to crouch defensively in front of a thoroughly confused Myra.<p>

She tried to catch his arm to calm him, but the boy pulled out of her grip with more strength than she would have though he would have, "WHERE IS IT?" he screamed again, and began tearing through the items around her chamber. Ripping the drawers out their frames, the blankets off of the bed…

"Myra..." Meera had appeared breathless at Myra's door, much of the castle had woken up and stood behind her "I…"

"WHERE IS IT?" Jojen yelled, tossing aside the blankets to look under Myra's mattress, suddenly she saw something dark dart out towards the small fire in the room.

"What was that?" Myra squinted her violet eyes at the black smudge.

"A leech?" she heard Meera's confused voice behind her.

"Bolton must have left it behind…" another voice was drowned out by Jojen's raving.

"CATCH IT! DON'T LET IT GET TO THE FIRE!" Silver bolted into action, leaping to stomp on the slug. "NO! IT MUSTN'T DIE!"

Myra quickly grabbed a sheet from the pile that Jojen had thrown on the floor "Move Silver!" she commanded, her wolf moved away as Myra dropped the sheet over the leech drawing the corners of the fabric together so that when she held it up against the light she could see the parasite, at least three centimetres long, wriggling, cradled in the thin linen.

Myra puffed out small breath, before sliding her eyes back to a very relieved looking Jojen "All right, what happened?"

"I-" his brow furrowed "Did you not see?"

"The leech?" Myra asked.

"No…" the boy shook his head "the red hair, the eyes that wanted the King's blood set aflame…"

"King's blo…" Meera had begun to ask, when she turned her eyes to Myra "Myra!"

The violet-eyed girl had turned white as the sheet she was holding, she knew what the boy was talking of… the red that haunted her had struck Jojen too. She looked at the leech not doubting that it was fat and had been waiting with Robb's blood… she did not know why and she did not care why. "It mustn't die" she agreed with the greensighted boy.

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><p>A week later, with no word from the South and her mind quickly unraveling with each passing day, Myra could not even remember what it was she was doing when she heard the words "My lady the King has returned…"<p>

The words had not fully left the squire's mouth before Myra was gone, she was flying down the halls, past the blurs, tears streaked back into her silver hair as she ran to the only clear thing she could see, he was barely off of his horse before she had tackled him, allowing herself to be lifted off the ground and into his embrace, as she crashed her lips against his. Better than any dream... he was finally home and in his arms so too was she.

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><p><strong>Yay! Togetherness! Comments are wonderful!<strong>


	24. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Hey! SO I've moved some (a lot) of the chapters over to the second story. I didn't wanna split it in an unnatural place hence… yeah. Hope you all get why I did it (just getting far too long and overwhelming). Really, really hope you keep reading. Thanks to everyone who's been there. Especially all of you reviewers… maybe you thought I hadn't noticed, but you keep me going. Thank you.

You've all been so wonderfully patient and supportive. Simply the best!

Part II: _'Bites and Burns'_ is posted up now!


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